


Some Elated Revelation

by erikakathryn



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, MTF Stiles, Romance, Trans Character, Trans Stiles, female!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 14:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erikakathryn/pseuds/erikakathryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because, see, that’s the thing.</p><p>Stiles wasn’t a girl.</p><p>Or, well, she was. But she was a boy. Only she wasn’t. </p><p>It’s complicated.</p><p>[Trans!Stiles, mid-season two, canon compliant.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Elated Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't think I needed to tag anything else, but if for some reason you feel that I should, please let me know! 
> 
> I had been toying around the idea of a trans!Stiles fic and, now that I have my groove back, I couldn't resist.  
> Any questions, concerns, or comments, please feel free to throw them my way. If you feel that I haven't portrayed something right, again, let me know.

There was a reason for why Stiles was persistent in finding out if Danny found her attractive: she couldn’t exactly go up to Scott, much less Jackson, and ask him without getting a few raised eyebrows. If not with Scott, then definitely Jackson; possible violence of the physical persuasion optional. Point was, despite all of her exclamations and boisterous comments, Stiles was self-conscious. Especially when it came to other boys and their attraction to her (or lack thereof). 

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Scott flung his arm over Stiles’ shoulders, smiling as he pulled his friend close. Stiles winced, internally, but shrugged in response.

Because, see, that’s the thing.

Stiles wasn’t a girl.

Or, well, she was. But she was a boy. Only she wasn’t. 

It’s complicated. 

(The first time Stiles tried explaining it to her dad she was all but certain she had caused his brain to short circuit. But besides him, nobody else knew. Before her mom died, Stiles never vocalized what she felt, so she didn’t really know how her mom would react. Stiles assumed it would be positive if not neutral at the very least; Claudia was a perceptive woman.)

Maybe the questions directed towards Danny were inappropriate and borderline exploitative, but Stiles was curious. She had never been kissed, never even touched a boy before. Or girl. But especially boys. And so long as Stiles remained looking, physically, like a boy, she knew she would have to improvise. Every time Stiles walked by a mirror she shut her eyes and turned away, so to say she had self-esteem issues would be an understatement. Having somebody else who wasn’t family express an interest in her? That would be a miracle. A rush of confidence like none other.

Hence the need to find out if gay guys found her attractive. 

“Stiles?” Scott’s brow furrowed in concern and with his arm still around Stiles, he shook her out of her reverie, “You still with me, buddy?”

“Yeah, man, don’t worry about it.” With a shake of her head and an easy smile, Stiles picked up her bag and threw it around her shoulder. “Hey, did you do the chem homework last night?”

Scott stopped dead in his tracks, staring at Stiles, “What homework?”

“Aw, shit.” Stiles frowned, “We’re screwed.”

“Royally,” Scott’s expression was somber as they walked down the hall. Stiles knew she should have stayed in bed that morning; today just wasn’t her day.

::

“How was school?” The Sheriff’s voice rang out as soon as Stiles closed the door behind her. 

“Eh,” Stiles shrugged, sitting next to her dad at the kitchen table, fingers tapping against the surface. The Sheriff raised an eyebrow in response. She sighed, “I mean, it was alright. Chemistry was a pain. Coach got really into drawing flow charts on the board and spent practically the entire class explaining why visual markers were vital to the learning process, so that kind of made up for it.” 

“No lacrosse today, then?” It was a Wednesday, a day where Stiles was normally out until well after five. 

“About that,” Stiles looked away from her father and down at her fingers, “I was thinking about quitting.”

“What? Why?” The Sheriff questioned, “You were so close to making first string this year, same with Scott.”

Stiles shrugged once more, “I don’t know, I’m just not into it as much anymore. I mean, it’s not boring, because, hello, it’s lacrosse, there are balls flying at you at all times and people running around like chicken with their heads cut off, it’s never a dull moment, but I’m not feeling it.”

“Is it because of,” The Sheriff made an aborted hand gesture, his voice trailing off.

“Kind of? I don’t know. It’s getting weird.” At her dad’s expression, Stiles continued, “Just being around all the guys all the time. Like, not Scott, duh, but Jackson and Greenberg and—”

“What? Have they done anything to you? Do I need to go down to the school and have a talk with your Coach because—”

“Dad,” Stiles cut him off.

“Okay, ” He took a deep breath before continuing, “I don’t want you giving up on something you love because of some wise cracks a bunch of kids may throw your way.”

“Nobody has any idea, trust me, and Jackson’s best friend is Danny; he’s not exactly steering the anti-queer brigade.” Stiles stood up, picking up her bag from where she tossed it by the front door, “But it’s whatever. I’m just gonna go upstairs if that’s cool with you.” When no response came, she shouldered her bag, taking the steps two at a time. 

::

“You’re home early.”

Ask her later, and Stiles will deny with every fiber of her being the indignant squeak of a squawk she gave, but Derek heard it and his lips quirked into a small smirk at the sound. 

“Do you make it a habit to hang around my house when I’m not home?” Stiles rolled her eyes, grabbing her desk chair and swiveling it around to straddle the seat, watching Derek from where he leaned against her windowsill. “Seriously, how did you even get in here?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “The front door.”

“We lock it.”

“You have a spare key.”

“What, did you sniff out the metal?”

Derek paused, staring at Stiles blankly, “You’re being serious? Of course you are. No, you just keep it in an obvious spot.”

“A fake rock is not—”

“At least half of the population that hides spare keys uses a fake rock. It’s not exactly quantum physics.” 

“Whatever. What did you want?” Stiles questioned only to be met with silence. After a moment, she rolled her eyes, “Really? That’s all you’re gonna give me? Why were you even here, then?” Again, more silence. “If you say it’s some big bad werewolf secret I’m sorry to be the one that has to break it to you, but I’m not exactly a library of lycanthropic wonder and knowledge.”

“I know that,” Derek commented, “I needed your computer.”

“I have a password!”

“It’s your first name, Stiles, that’s not exactly secretive.”

“How do you even know my name, that’s just plain creepy. There was a line there and you just crossed it.” 

“Public records exist for a reason, in case you forgot.” Derek moved his hands and crossed them under his chest. 

“Did you look up each of us kids in your motley crew gang of misfits, or am I just special?” 

“You’re just special.” At Derek’s easy response, Stiles felt her face begin to flush. It confused her because, whoa, one, this is Derek Hale, and also, two, this is Derek Hale. 

“Like a snowflake?” Stiles asked after an awkward attempt at a chuckle that cracked halfway through.

“Like a snowflake.” Derek smirked. “Can I use your computer?”

“You know there’s this thing called a public library. Funny thing, it’s right above the office with all those public records you’re so fond of are located.” Stiles bit back sarcastically. At least that was one thing she was good at; sarcasm was her answer to everything and damn, did it work. 

“You’re being difficult, Stiles.” Derek frowned, eyes narrowing.

“And you’re not? What if I had homework?” Derek raised an eyebrow in silent question. Stiles sighed, “Okay, fair point; fine, whatever, here, have at it.” She leaned over to grab her computer, shoving it into Derek’s hands albeit more forcefully than was probably necessary. “Are you hanging around or whisking off into the night because I told Scott I’d chat with him after he got home from practice.”

Derek shrugged, moving and sitting on Stiles’ bed, booting up the computer. Stiles rolled her eyes but let him be, pulling out her phone instead. She had been trying to beat her high score in Flappy Bird all week, anyway. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked, looking up from the screen a good while later.

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, eyes not moving from her phone. 

“I’m done, if you want it back.” At Stiles’ grunt of an answer, Derek rolled his eyes but got up anyway, putting the laptop back on Stiles’ desk, screen open to what she had last been searching. It wasn’t until Stiles died in the game and looked over did she realize what webpage she had left out before going out for school in the morning.

It wasn’t like, porn, or anything, although she thought to herself that, that would have been so much better, really. There were a couple of online forums Stiles checked in with weekly if not regularly, offering support to individuals who identified as trans. Some were just basic, straightforward sites, while there were a few she checked out that were geared towards trans women exclusively. “Um,” Stiles paused, biting on her bottom lip, “We’re doing this thing in Health, exploring sexualities and stuff.” The weak laugh Stiles gave didn’t help her case in the slightest. 

“I’m going to head out, don’t die,” Derek all but ignored Stiles, barely even acknowledging her explanations before opening up the window and climbing out. 

“Don’t die?” Stiles called out, standing up and moving to lean out her window, “Why am I going to die? Who’s dying? Derek? Derek?” He was long gone. With a huff, Stiles closed her window with a slam.

“Everything okay?” The Sheriff’s voice called out from the living room.

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry!” Stiles hollered back, sitting back down at her desk to look at her computer. Besides the one website, there wasn’t anything else she had open. Really, Stiles could have just not said anything and Derek would have just played it off as being another one of the weird things she looked up and researched in her spare time, but she didn’t; she freaked. She had no idea what Derek was even thinking, if the idea even came across his mind when he initially logged onto her computer that the sites were meant for her.

“Fuck this,” Stiles muttered under her breath just as a message from Scott popped up on the screen. She accepted the skype call, smiling at her best friend’s face, “Hey, how was practice?”

Scott’s smile turned into a grimace, “Hard. Painful. Bloody. Fantastic. You should have been there, Jackson fell on his ass and the look on his face almost made the suicides we had to run worth it.” He shrugged, “Had no one to laugh with about it, though.”

“Oh c’mon, man, you gonna be like this after every practice?” Stiles asked, scrolling through his facebook in another window. 

“Just the bad ones. And the fun ones. Especially the weird ones.” Scott shrugged, “It doesn’t feel right without you there, that’s all. Why did you say you were quitting, again?”

“A bunch of reasons,” Stiles mumbled, elaborating only when Scott didn’t say anything, “Keeping my grades up, dad being on my case about keeping said grades up, the stress of it and then dealing with Jackson’s douchey attitude and all that other stupid shit.” 

“He’s not that bad.”

“Enough to be a nuisance, though, and you know it.” Stiles gave a quirk of a smile, “It’s not like I’m setting sail and leaving the state for life, I’m still gonna be seeing you and hanging out with you. We just won’t be warming up a bench every other day.”

“We’re so close to making first string, you know.” 

“No, you’re close to making first string. And when that happens, I’ll be warming that bench all by myself and no way are you leaving me alone with Coach.” Stiles gave a fake shudder, “I’d rather hang out with Derek, thank you very much.”

Scott tilted his head, watching Stiles carefully for a second, “What’s up with Derek? Have you two talked recently or something?”

Aw, shit, Stiles mentally berated herself. She shrugged, “Kind of, he came by earlier.”

“Did he say anything?” Scott questioned.

“Just wanted to use my computer, nothing crazy.” 

“He knows we have a public library, right?” 

“Exactly what I said, dude, so I don’t know.”

Still, Scott’s face remained pensive, “Did he say anything else?”

“Nah, man, he pretty much hightailed it out of here after he was done.” 

“Rude.”

“You’re telling me.”

“And you have no idea what he wanted?”

“He deleted his browser history, Scott, and didn’t say a word the entire time. I don’t know, man. Call him up if you’re that concerned. Unless something comes knocking at my door threatening our lives, I don’t care.” 

“I don’t have his number,” Scott paused, “Wait, do you?”

“Uh, no.” Stiles replied quickly, looking away from the computer and at her phone. Just as she said that, the screen lit up with a message. “Speak of the devil,” she muttered under her voice.

“Is that him?” Scott asked, more persistent this time.

“No, man, of course not, it’s ESPN.” Stiles rolled her eyes, reading over what Derek sent.  
“Btw I didn’t think the site had anything to do WITH you”

“Fuck,” Stiles was about to tap out a response when another message came through.

“But now I’m curious”

“What the hell,” Glaring down at her phone, Stiles ignored Scott’s questions. “What were you saying?” She asked, looking back at the computer screen after hitting send.

“Dude! Why are you texting Derek? What’s he saying?” Scott’s eyes were wide and frantic.

“I didn’t say I was texting Derek!”

“Then who else could you be texting?” 

“You say it like I don’t have any other friends.” Scott didn’t answer Stiles after that last remark. With a glare, Stiles ignored her phone when it buzzed with an answer, instead choosing to say goodbye to Scott and close her computer despite his protests.

Serves him right.

Sure, Stiles kept a small, tight group of close friends (re: Scott), but that didn’t mean she didn’t have friends. She wasn’t a recluse or anything. People knew who she was, for the most part. 

“I’m the Alpha I have a right to know”

Seriously? Derek was seriously pulling that line right now? Between Derek’s quick departure and Scott’s reluctance to accept that she was quitting the team, not to mention the hell that was school, Stiles had just about had it with any and every body’s shit.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW DUDE”

“???”

Stiles didn’t reply. A minute later, another message from Derek came through, “Stiles?” She was tempted to just turn her phone off, but Stiles audibly groaned and began a reply, “i told you not to worry about it”

“That’s one of the dumbest things you’ve ever said”

“youre one to talk” Stiles was tapping her foot, body full of jitters, as she waited for a reply.

“Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” 

“Stiles?”

“Fine. I’ll see you around.”

Minutes had passed in between each of Derek’s messages, but Stiles couldn’t think of anything to say in reply. Or, rather, she couldn’t make herself move to actually write out a response. Nothing would work; he pretty much admitted to not believing her homework excuse. If she went back and said it was just research due to mild curiosity, he would wonder why she didn’t just say so from the beginning. Why she was so hesitant to let him know.

Basically, Stiles was fucked, and not in any of the good ways.

::

“Stiles?” The Sheriff knocked at Stiles’ bedroom door softly before popping his head into the room, “Everything okay?”

Stiles rolled over on her bed, turning to face her dad, “Yeah, must’ve fallen asleep or something.” 

“You sure you’re feeling okay?” He walked over to her bed, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead, “You don’t feel warm.”

“Told you, I’m just tired or whatever,” Stiles mumbled.

Sighing, the Sheriff removed his hand in favor of pulling Stiles’ blanket up and covering her in it, “Get some rest, I’ll make sure you’re awake in the morning.” Stiles gave a noncommittal groan of an answer before rolling back over. 

::

“I’m sorry about last night,” Scott said as soon as he saw Stiles the next morning. “I was being an asshole.”

“You were.” Stiles nodded, reaching into her locker and pulling out the books she needed for first period. “But I forgive you because you’re my best friend anyway.” She grinned at Scott before looking back into her locker. “So what’s up?”

“Nothing, talked to Allison last night,” Scott grinned.

“Yeah?” Stiles zipped her back up, “What she say?”

“Nothing much. We’re gonna get some pizza together after school today, though.” If at all possible, Scott’s grin grew even wider.

“Now that’s what I call good, ole’ fashioned American teenage fun,” Stiles rolled her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, man, absolutely nothing.” Stiles shouldered her bag, walking down the hall. “I’m glad for you, really,”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles scratched at the back of her neck, “I’ve just been all over the place lately.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Scott looked at her in concern.

“Fine, don’t worry about me.” Stiles flashed Scott a grin before turning the corner, heading for her first class of the day. Her brow furrowed as she walked away, however; she knew the stuff with Derek had been grating on her nerves, but it wasn’t like he was doing anything out of the norm. Same with Scott. Normally she would shrug it off as being an off day or two, but for the last week or so she had been on edge, and even the Sheriff had begun to notice. 

Honestly, Stiles had no idea what was up. 

::

“You have an appointment with Dr. Stevens tomorrow,” The Sheriff noted in between bites at dinner that night, looking up at Stiles to give her a pointed look. She wrinkled her face in disgust.

“Why? She’s a total lunatic.”

“Stiles,” He narrowed his eyes at her, “I’ve told you before, if you want to look for a new doctor, we can.” Except she was the only one who didn’t call Stiles a lunatic and was actually covered under their insurance plan. 

“No, it’s fine,” Stiles shoveled a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth, “What time is it?”

“Four, so you shouldn’t have any problems getting there. Not since you quit lacrosse,” he gave her a pointed look.

“Are you seriously upset about that, still?” Stiles put her fork down with an audible clang, “I thought you told me you were okay with it?”

“I don’t understand it,” The Sheriff set his own fork down, sitting up straighter in his seat to look at Stiles in the eye, “You were so good and had so much fun on the team.”

“There’s nothing to discuss, though. I didn’t want to do it anymore so I quit, what’s the big deal?”

“You were good, Stiles.”

“I was good at making mud pies, too, but you don’t see me doing that anymore, do you?” Stiles narrowed her eyes, her tone terse. 

“You know that’s not the point I’m trying to make.”

“Then what point are you making, because I’m not getting it.” Stiles looked down at her plate, “If it’s the fact I’m a girl in a boy’s body that’s still bothering you, you’re gonna have to get over that because as soon as I’m out of here I won’t be this,” at that, she waved a hand around her face, implying her body and appearance, “anymore.” 

“Stiles—”

“Forget it, Dad. You never wanted a daughter, I know. You wanted a son you could throw a baseball with, who you could teach how to change the oil on the car and could talk about girls with over a can of beer because what the Sheriff does in his backyard is nobody’s business but his own. I get it. I know that and I’ve accepted that I’m not going to be much more than a failure in your eyes. But you can still do that stuff with me, in case you forgot.” She stood up, grabbing her plate and throwing it into the sink. “I’m going upstairs,” Without sparing a glance at her father, Stiles slammed the door to her room. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” Stiles leaned against the back of her door, eyes narrowed. “Why are you here? Seriously? Haven’t you ever heard of a cell phone? I know you know how to use one.” 

“Stiles—” Derek started, taking a step forward from where he stood at her window.

“Don’t,” Stiles cut him off, “Just get out of here, okay? I don’t have time for whatever the hell it is you need me to do. In case you couldn’t tell, I have enough of my own shit to take care of.”

“I just wanted—” Derek tried to explain himself only to be cut off a second later.

“Stiles, you didn’t let me explain myself,” The Sheriff walked into Stiles’ room unannounced. He stopped short at the sight of Derek, “What the hell is he doing here?” Turning to look at Stiles, the Sheriff’s eyes narrowed, “What the hell, Stiles? Is he why you quit lacrosse? Over some man? Some criminal.”

“No!” Stiles let out a frustrated groan, running her hands over her hair, “I have no idea why he’s here, okay?” She turned to look at Derek, “Seriously, why are you here?”

“Better question, how did you get in my house?” The Sheriff looked at Derek with closer scrutiny, “What do you think you’re doing, trespassing?”

“That’s not it—”

“Just let me handle it, okay, dad,” Stiles glared at her dad, still angry with him.

“Stiles—”

“Listen to me, kid, it’s my house, my rules, and I call the shots here, not you.” The Sheriff argued back to Stiles, “If I want to question Derek Hale, I can, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Sheriff—”

“You don’t get it, Dad, okay? Just let me handle something for once on my own!”

“You handle everything on your own! You don’t let me in on anything that’s going on with you, you won’t tell me anything until you’ve got it all bottled up and throw it in my face.” 

“Stiles!” Both the Sheriff and Stiles stopped their arguing to look over at Derek. “I just came by to talk, but if it’s a bad time, I’ll come back later.”

“Or never,” The Sheriff added, bitterly. He turned to Stiles, “How the hell do you know him? You’re the one who accused him of murder, in case you forgot.”

“I know that! Trust me, he never let’s me or Scott forget—”

“Scott hangs around him, too? What have you kids gotten yourselves involved with, now—”

“Nothing! So we’re friends with Derek, what’s the big deal?”

“He’s an ex-suspect in a murder case!” 

“He was exonerated, Dad.”

“He was still a suspect, Stiles, and if you think I’m just going to sit by and watch you go around town hanging out with him, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment, okay, is that what you want to hear? Because I’m sorry. So sorry I’m not the son you wanted or the daughter, I’m sorry I’m friends with people you don’t approve of and I’m sorry I don’t want to play lacrosse anymore and I’m sorry that you can’t accept that I’m growing up and making my own decisions, but I’m not going to stop hanging out with whoever I want to hang out with.” Tears had begun to form in Stiles’ eyes, the frustration finally catching up with her. “How many times can I say I’m sorry before you just let it go?”

“You know that’s not the point, Stiles,” Her father’s voice turned to a somber tone. He looked over at Derek, “You need to go, now, and don’t think I won’t be keeping my eye on you.”

“I understand,” Derek glanced at Stiles, pausing to give her a significant look, but she wasn’t having any of it, instead choosing to look down at her hands, wringing them together. Without another word, he moved between the two to exit Stiles’ room, the front door opening and closing moments later.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Stiles—”

“No, I don’t, I already told you I’m not explaining my friendships to you.”

“I’m your father, Stiles, whether you like it or not! So long as you’re living under my roof, you’re going to answer my questions, is that understood?” 

“Fine.” Without another word, Stiles picked up her schoolbag, walking by her father and following in Derek’s wake.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” The Sheriff grabbed Stiles’ arm, stopping her. “Let go, I’m going over Scott’s.” 

“Stiles—”

“I’m not listening to you, okay?” Without another word, Stiles moved out of the Sheriff’s grip and went down the stairs, slamming the front door as she bounded out of it.

::

“Hi, it’s Scott, can’t come to the phone right now, leave a message!”

“Goddamnit, Scott!” Stiles slammed her hands against her stealing wheel as she stopped at a red light, “Give me a call back, okay?” She ended the call, throwing her phone in the passenger seat, “Fuck.”

With nowhere to go, Stiles made a right, pulling into a parking lot and letting the Jeep idle. It was only after she moved to rest her head against the steering wheel did her phone ring. Expecting it to be Scott, she answered without looking at the caller ID, “Hey man, seriously need to talk to you—”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice came across the receiver instead.

“What do you want?” Stiles asked, glaring at the tree she was parked under.

“Can you come over the loft?”

Stiles let out a bitter laugh, “Yeah, I can be there,” she reversed out of the parking spot, merging back onto the main road, “What did you want to talk about, anyway?”

“Don’t worry about it, just get here.” Derek said nothing else before hanging up.

On one hand, Stiles was annoyed by how brisk he was after he was the one who hid out in her room, waiting for her to show up, but on the other hand, she really had nothing better to do. She couldn’t return home, not after the blow out with her dad, and, shit, she was so stupid. Half the shit she said didn’t even make sense, but she couldn’t stop herself from yelling. It was like a dam was let loose and there was no stopping her.

::

“You okay?” Derek asked, watching Stiles carefully.

“Yes,” Stiles moved past Derek into the loft, taking a seat at his couch, “Now what the hell is so important that you’re demanding to talk to me?”

“I already told you,” Derek closed the door, turning around to stand in front of her, “I just wanted to talk.”

“I got that part, but what about?”

“The other night,” He paused, “Today.”

Stiles felt her blood run cold, the color draining from her face, “There’s nothing to talk about,” she spoke. 

“You know that’s not true—”

“Just drop it, okay? It’s none of your business!”

“Stop cutting me off, goddamnit, Stiles!” Derek glared at her, eyes narrowed. Had he had any less control, his eyes would have been flashing Alpha red, “You’re not okay, that’s for sure.” 

“What do you care?” Stiles challenged, looking away from him with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because I do!” Derek sat next to her, “You’re pack, okay?”

“Wait, what?” Stiles paused, turning to look at him in shock, “Can you repeat that?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Don’t make me repeat it.”

“No, no, you totally have to, I don’t think I heard you.” 

“Pack, Stiles. You’re pack.”

“Damn, Derek, I heard you the first time, you don’t gotta say it so many times,” Stiles grinned, winking at him. “No, but seriously, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Why didn’t you think you were?”

“Something about your whole grr and rawr thing had me thinking otherwise.” She shrugged.

“You saved my life. I saved yours. A lot. Pretty sure we’re past that point.” 

“That’s the nicest thing I think I’ve heard in my entire life.” Stiles held a hand to her chest in mock awe.

“Too bad I won’t be repeating it.” 

“You’re an asshole,” Stiles knocked her shoulder against his with a laugh. 

“We do need to talk, though.” Derek spoke seriously.

“You keep saying that, but I don’t know what you have in mind.” Stiles leaned back in her seat, looking at him carefully.

“At first I just wanted to talk to you about what I found on your computer—”

“You know how uncool it is to snoop through somebody’s computer when they let you borrow it?”

“You had the website up and open! I couldn’t have avoided it, Stiles.” Derek argued.

“Besides the point. Carry on.” 

“Right,” Derek rolled his eyes, “but your argument with your father today, that was pretty intense.”

“Understatement of the year, jeeze.” Stiles muttered in response before shrugging. “I dunno, man, it was kind of all just building? We were due for a blowout sometime soon, I think.” 

“But what you two had been talking about—”

“Oh,” Stiles cut him off, “right. The girl thing.”

“Yeah,” Derek watched Stiles carefully, “the girl thing.”

“It’s not that important, really,” Stiles tried to shrug off Derek’s concern to no avail.

“You’re a shitty liar.”

“That’s a lie! I have it on good authority that I’m actually a great liar, thank you very much.” Stiles argued, hurt. 

“You’re easy to read, Stiles.” Derek commented, “You were, you are, really upset, and it has me concerned.”

“Well those are words I never thought I would hear you say.”

“Stiles, stop avoiding the subject.” 

“Fine.” Stiles paused for a moment, looking down at her hands, where her fingers sat tapping a random rhythm against her knees. “What do you know about transgender individuals?”

“Not much, but not too little,” Derek remarked, “The general basis. I took a human sexuality course when I was living in New York but never finished it.” 

“So you’re familiar with trans women and male-to-female transitions?” Stiles asked, gaze still focused on her hands. Her body was stiff as she waited for Derek’s response. Her voice may have been steady, but that was due to years of practice. Internally, she was freaking the fuck out. 

“Yes,” he paused, “Is that what you are?”

“It’s who I am,” Stiles corrected, looking up.

“Right,” he nodded, “When did you realize it?”

“Somewhere around kindergarten, I think.” Stiles grinned at the memory, “We were talking about what we wanted to be for Halloween and I said I wanted to be a girl. Some guys were laughing about it and my teacher said how it was okay for just the one night, but then I said how I wanted to be a girl every day of the week and how I wished Halloween was every day and that’s when some red flags were raised.

“But I never really gave it a name or ‘came out’ about it until sixth grade or whatever.” Stiles shrugged. “Dad’s still getting used to it, as you can tell.”

“Does Scott know?” 

“No. Just you and Dad.” Stiles frowned, “You won’t tell anyone, right?”

“You can trust me.”

“You said that already.” 

“It’s the truth, Stiles.” Derek remarked. He paused, “What do you want me to call you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t people usually change their name? And pronouns?” Derek asked.

“Oh, um,” Stiles blushed, “Stiles is still just a nickname so I never really thought about it. Not too hard, at least. I would say female pronouns but since nobody knows, I really don’t want to deal with any of those complications.” She thought for a minute, “But if it’s just the two of us, I would really love it if you treated me just like any other girl.”

“Does that mean I can’t throw you against walls anymore?” Derek asked, a cheeky grin adorning his features.

“If you stop, I’ll kick your ass,” Stiles glared. 

“You’re so ladylike it’s astounding,” Derek teased.

“That’s so sexist, you have no idea.” Stiles shook her head, causing Derek to laugh in response.

Nearly an hour went by before their bickering and bantering came to a cease, their laughter dying out. “Have you heard from your dad at all?” Derek asked.

“No,” Stiles glanced down at her phone, checking for any missed messages. “Same with Scott.”

“He’s probably with Allison,” Derek rolled his eyes.

“You can say that again.”

“He’s probably with Allison.”

“Asshole.” Stiles glared.

“You don’t deny it, though,” Derek added with a smirk.

“Touche.” Stiles grumbled. “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, concern heavy in his voice.

“With my Dad, I mean, he said if I was living under his roof, I had to follow his rules and listen to him. And, okay, I get it, it was based on childish reasons and shit, but, I have a point to make.” She paused, “Or, at least I thought I did. I don’t know.”

Derek’s arm rested on the back of the couch as he turned towards Stiles, “If you need to, you can stay here.” 

Stiles was speechless, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything, like, this is all a bunch of crap that I made into a mess.” 

“Stiles, I mean it, talk to your dad, but if you want to, my door is open.” With that, Derek stood up, walking into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. 

Staring down at her phone once again, Stiles pulled up her messages and debated on writing something to her dad. Even if she was angry with him, she knew he aught to know where she was, so she messaged him, “stayn at dereks idk when ill be home”

Surprisingly, the Sheriff replied hastily, which only caused Stiles to become confused. Why hadn’t he made any effort to contact her sooner? Did he seriously not care that she had left? Was she that insignificant, that much of a nuisance, that he didn’t even care? 

“tonight?”

“no”

“you and I need to talk” 

Before Stiles even had a second to compose a response, her phone had an incoming call from her dad. “Yeah?” She asked, rubbing a hand over her eyes. 

“I don’t know what you thought would happen, you walking out of here like that—”

“Dad, I really don’t want to talk about this right now, okay? I told you where I was, that’s it.” 

“You listen here, son, I said it before and I will say it again, this is my house, and these are my rules. You are not allowed to have ex-cons lurking around the house, you do not get to hang out with said ex-cons, and you do not get to decide for yourself what is good or bad for your well-being,” The Sheriff kept going on, but Stiles wasn’t listening. It had been four years since she had come out to him, four years since their relationship started to fall apart, slowly and unknown to the rest of the world save for the two of them. 

It had been four long years since Stiles had first started seeing Dr. Stevens, four years since she got up the guts to finally admit to herself what she was feeling and what those feelings meant. Four years since she finally accepted herself for who she was, despite how she may look on the outside and to the rest of the world. Four years since she had accepted that her father knew next to nothing about who she really was, had no idea what the word transgendered even meant until she sat him down and tried to explain it to him with the aid of printed articles and references she had found in her own research. It had been four long, hard years since she made the courageous decision to tell her father to use female pronouns, to acknowledge her gender for what it was, not the sex she had been assigned at birth.

Four years, all gone in a blink of an eye, with one single word.

Son.

And he didn’t even realize it. The Sheriff was still going on, talking Stiles’ ear off. Not that she was listening, much less paying attention. It wasn’t until Derek was standing in front of her, shaking her shoulders to pull her from her reverie did she realize what was happening. Stiles’ phone was held limply in her hand, having fallen to her side and had Derek not picked it out of her hands she would have dropped it as she fell back, sitting on the couch once again. She stared at the floor, her eyes unfocused as her mind tried to catch up. Tried to comprehend what was going on. 

“Stiles?” Derek’s voice broke through her thoughts, causing Stiles to jump.

“I—I—” Stiles bit down on her tongue, wincing when she tasted blood, squeezing her eyes shut. She shook her head as her hands curled into fists, leaning forward to pull her body into as small a ball as possible. 

Derek didn’t like to do it, but when he heard Stiles’ phone ring from in the kitchen, he strained to hear what was being said on the other side of the line. He had sighed when he heard the Sheriff’s voice, but continued making his drink without notice. And while he had taken a class in college, Derek would willingly admit he knew next to nothing when it came to the subject of trans women. What he did know was that the sudden change in Stiles’ heart rate was not normal and not by any means okay. Abandoning his coffee, Derek had walked back into the living room only to see to the task of trying to shake Stiles out of whatever headspace she had put herself in. 

The Sheriff’s voice was still coming across the line an Derek picked up her phone, pulling it to his own ear, “Sheriff,” he began, cutting off the other man mid-sentence, “Stiles is going to have to call you back.” Without another word, Derek ended the call, turning his attention back to Stiles. 

Nothing he had been through or seen or learned in his life could have prepared him for what to do in this sort of situation, but he knew one thing was for certain and that was Stiles’ need for comfort. Her need for something, anything. Sitting in the same spot that he had been earlier, Derek pulled Stiles into a hug, whispering nonsense words against her hairline, small, comforting words and phrases. At some point during all of this, Stiles had begun to shake. He tightened his embrace.

Minutes passed before Stiles pulled herself out of Derek’s grip, rubbing at her eyes, “Thanks,” she muttered. Scratching a hand over the back of her head, she focused on her hands as she spoke, “Sorry about that.”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was firm, “You have nothing to be sorry about, stop it.”

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered, smiling with a quick glance at Derek. 

“Ass.”

“Yeah.” Stiles shrugged. “Fuck,” she grumbled, looking at where her phone sat at the coffee table, “what am I gonna do?”

“Meaning?” Derek asked.

“With my Dad,” she paused, “he doesn’t even realize he did anything wrong.”

“You can’t know that,” Derek tried to defend the Sheriff, despite wanting to do no such this. But he had to remind himself, this was Stiles’ father. 

“He just kept talking! He didn’t even catch himself! He always catches himself.” Stiles spoke the last bit quietly, as if to herself despite knowing Derek’s ability to hear her anyway. 

“Give him some time,” Derek tried to reason. He looked outside, noting the setting sun, “Remember, you can spend the night here, if you want.” Stiles nodded mutely, not fighting the offer. “I’ll go grab you some clothes, okay?” Again, she nodded. 

As Derek stood up to go pull out a pair of sweatpants and old shirt for her to borrow, Stiles reached for her phone, checking her messages. There was nothing from her father or Scott. 

::

“Hey,” Scott smiled at Stiles, clapping a hand on her shoulder the next morning, leaning against the locker next to her own. “Sorry I didn’t call you back last night, everything okay?”

Stiles frowned. Not a single call or text from Scott, and while she wasn’t shocked, not really, because she had done the same thing to him in the past, it still hurt. Derek Hale, someone she had known for a fraction of the time she had known Scott, had showed more concern for her in the last twenty-four hours than Scott had in weeks. “Had a fight with Dad,” she shrugged her shoulders, trying to play it off as being no big deal. 

“You sure?” Scott questioned, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, “You guys rarely fight.”

Stiles had to bite back a laugh; right, because they rarely fought. Okay. More like they were much better at hiding it; wouldn’t do well for the neighbors to hear their arguing when it was an election year. “It’s whatever, don’t worry about it.” She shouldered her bag, moving away from the locker bank, Scott walking beside her as she went.

“You sounded pretty upset—”

“I said forget it, okay?” Stiles glared at Scott before sighing, “Sorry, sorry, it’s not your fault. Things have just been a mess lately.” She paused, debating on telling Scott about Derek. She didn’t doubt that he would learn, if not figure it out for himself, later, and she would rather he hear it from her first and not some third party. “I’m staying with Derek for the time being, though.”

“Whoa, hey, what?” Scott stopped Stiles, looking at her in alarm, “You’re doing what now?”

“I had a fight with Dad,” she looked away, “and Derek called me after I left a message with you and after I got to his place I called Dad, got into an even bigger fight, and he offered to let me stay with him at the loft.” Stiles frowned, “He didn’t say for how long, but, he pretty much insisted.”

“You can totally come stay with me,” Scott rushed to say, “Mom would have no problem with it, like, at all.” He paused, frowning. 

“I appreciate it, really,” Stiles began walking once more, “but I think I’m good for now. My dad and your mom have probably already spoken and I really don’t want to have her, or you, in the middle of all this.” 

“What did start the fight?”

“Derek was in my room,” Stiles rolled her eyes. 

“Sounds like he overreacted, although he is an ex-felon.” 

“Exonerated! He was exonerated! He is an ex-suspect.” Stiles insisted, “Besides, Dad didn’t even listen to what Derek had to say. Just shut down immediately and refused to listen to me.” 

“Isn’t that a pretty typical parent reaction? I mean, Allison’s parents pretty much did the same thing.” 

“But Allison was never a person of interest in a murder.”

“So your dad underreacted, then?” Scott asked.

Stiles sighed, “I don’t know. Can we drop it? I’d rather focus on chemistry right now, as crazy as that sounds.”

“Not crazy. I heard we’re going to have a pop quiz today.” Scott remarked with a grimace. 

“Seriously?” Stiles asked, groaning. “This is so not my week.”

::

“And you’re sure its okay if I stay here?” Stiles asked, dropping her bag beside the couch that afternoon, watching Derek’s back from where he stood in front of his fridge.

“If you don’t stop asking, it’ll become a problem,” Derek remarked, turning around and watching Stiles. “If you don’t want to stay here, the doors behind you.”

“Whoa, whoa, hey, no, that’s not what I meant.” Stiles bit her bottom lip, “I told Scott, you know, so he doesn’t hear it from someone else or find out later or whatever, and he, well, he didn’t freak, but he reacted. Overly, so.” 

Derek frowned, “What did you tell him?”  
“Just that Dad and I got into a fight,” Stiles shrugged, dropping onto the couch and picking at a loose thread in her hoodie. “I dunno, he seemed to buy it.”

Derek rolled his eyes, moving to join her. “He’ll probably question you about it later if things don’t work out between you and your father soon. Think you’re ready for that?”

Stiles frowned, looking over at Derek, “What do you mean?”

“He might question your reasoning, that’s all. Are you prepared to tell him everything?” Derek asked, concerned.

“I don’t see why he has to know everything,” Stiles looked away again, pulling at the same loose thread as before.

“Maybe not everything, but something. He is your best friend.”

“Since when did you start dishing out advice?” Stiles questioned.

“Since it looked like you could use some.” Derek stood back up, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the time. “I have to go meet up with Isaac, Erica and Boyd for training, but I’ll be back later. If you want to grab some things from your house, let me know. I can grab ‘em or take you over later.”

“I do have a car, you know!” Stiles called after Derek.

Derek turned around from where he stood at the door, “Doesn’t mean you’ll want to go by yourself.” Stiles frowned, he had a point. 

::

“What if he’s home?” Stiles asked as they drove over the following night, tapping her fingers restlessly on her knees. 

“He’s not.” Derek asked, eyes on the road while he drove.

“How do you know?”

“Because we just drove by the cruiser at the diner on 8th and Market.”

“That fucker!” Stiles exclaimed, “He knows he’s not allowed to eat there.”

Derek looked at Stiles when they reached a red light, raising an eyebrow at her, “You want me to turn around and tell him that to his face?”

“No,” she grumbled, “I’m just upset about it.”

“I’d be surprised if you weren’t,” Derek remarked, turning the corner into Stiles’ neighborhood. He put the Camaro in park, “Want me to come in with you?”

“No, I’m okay.” Stiles opened the door, “Drive around the block? I should be good in, like, five minutes. Maybe ten. Just in case he comes back, I don’t want him having any more reason to hate you.” 

“Call me if you need me,” Derek nodded, reversing out of the driveway after he saw Stiles make her way into the house.

It really didn’t take long for Stiles to get her things together, grabbing a duffle bag from the bottom of her closet and shoving as much clothing in there as possible. She really didn’t want to outstay her welcome at Derek’s, but he did say she could stay as long as she needed to and she really didn’t want to have to stop back at the house any more than was necessary. She grabbed her computer before turning into the hallway, headed for the bathroom to grab her toothbrush when she stopped dead. The Sheriff was coming up the stairs, but stopped just before he hit the landing.

“Stiles,” he started before Stiles quickly cut him off.

“Don’t,” she said, closing her eyes and forcing herself to take a deep breath, “I’m just grabbing some things and then I’ll be gone, okay?”

“What?” He asked, eyes widening in alarm, “Where are you staying? I talked to Melissa—”

“Figured,” Stiles muttered under her breath before leveling her father with a look, “Don’t worry about where I’m at, just know I’m good and safe.”

“Are you staying with Derek?” He narrowed his eyes, sighing when Stiles didn’t say anything in response. “Of course you are. What is he to you? How do you know him?”

“We just run into each other around town a lot, you know, have some mutual friends.” Stiles shrugged before turning around and grabbing her toothbrush. The Sheriff followed her into her room.

“He’s twenty-two, how do you have mutual friends?” The Sheriff questioned.

“Don’t worry about it.” Stiles commented, shoving the last of her things into her bag. She pulled out her phone, sending Derek a quick text, “dads home. wait at end of block ill be there asap”

“Is it that Lahey kid?” He wouldn’t let up, pressing further.

“Dad!” Stiles exclaimed, turning around and glaring at her father, “I told you not to worry about it. Just drop it. You don’t like Derek, I get it, but I’m mad at you and he’s offering me a place to stay and I’m taking it.”

The Sheriff paused, not responding for a moment. It was only after Stiles grabbed her bag and made to move around him to leave did he finally reply, “How did you even get here? I didn’t see the Jeep out front.” He paused, “He dropped you off, didn’t he? Where is he, I want to talk to Derek.”

“Dad, don’t.” Stiles looked at her father, sadly. “Just drop it.”

“You can’t stay away for forever, you know.” He called after her as she descended the stairs.

“No, but I can stay with him for a while and maybe that’s all I need.” She stopped, hand on the front door, “Maybe it’s what we need, some time apart.”

“I’m your father, Stiles, I decide what is best for you, for us—” Stiles didn’t hear the last of what he had to say, however, leaving the house without glancing back, moving quickly down the sidewalk until she spotted Derek’s car.

“Everything okay?” Derek asked, putting the car in drive and pulling away from the curb.

“Peachy,” Stiles sighed, looking at her bag as she threw it on the floor in between her legs. She paused, “He didn’t even say anything about what he said, on the phone.”

“He probably doesn’t realize what he said,” Derek commented.

“But he should!” Stiles turned in her seat to look at Derek, “He should! He says he cares, that he decides what’s best for the two of us, but how can he do that if he can’t even realize what he said? How damaging it was? Can’t even accept me for me?” 

Derek waited a moment before responding, “I don’t know, Stiles. I really don’t.” 

Stiles frowned. It wasn’t often that Derek admitted when he had done wrong, that he didn’t know what he was doing, preferring to instead keep it to himself. But then again, she didn’t know that much about him. Either way, it threw her for a loop, leaving Stiles to sit there in silence as they made their way back to the loft.

::

The rest of the week passed in a blur without any hiccups, Stiles having stayed at Derek’s for just over a week now. It was Saturday night and Stiles would be lying if she said she hadn’t gotten comfortable staying with Derek. When it was just the two of them, as it often was, he had begun using female pronouns and treating Stiles like a woman, without prejudice. Stiles loved it. She was dreading the day when she would have to go back home, as sad as that may be, because of how comfortable she had become with Derek. For the first time in her entire life, Stiles had a glimpse of what her life could be like in the future. Not having to hide who she was, not having to tip toe around her peers and not having to wince every time someone referred to her as he. It was amazing.

So it shouldn’t have come like a shock when things came crashing down.

“Ay, Papi!” Erica’s voice rang throughout the loft as she and her fellow wolves walked into Derek’s place without warning. She stopped short when she saw Stiles and Derek sitting on the couch, Stiles’ laptop resting on her knees while they sat and watched 21 Jump Street. Isaac and Boyd weren’t far behind her, as they, too, stood and watched in confusion.

“Erica,” Derek stood, leveling her with a glare, “I have an alarm for a reason.”

She rolled her eyes, swinging a keychain around her finger, “I have a key.”

“I didn’t make that for you.”

Erica grinned, “No, but you gave Isaac one.”

“No I didn’t,” Derek crossed his arms, watching his betas tersely.

“You did give one to Boyd, though,” Isaac remarked, trying his best to avoid Derek’s eyes. 

“Boyd,” Derek started, turning to look at the boy in question, “I gave that to you because I trusted you to keep it to yourself.”

Boyd sighed, glancing at both Isaac and Erica before responding, “They wouldn’t stop annoying me and it was easier to just give them a copy.”

“If a rival wolf was pestering and annoying you, would you give them a copy, as well?” Derek asked.

“No, you don’t see Peter here, do you?” Derek sighed at Boyd’s response, turning around to glare at Stiles when he caught the sound of her bitten off laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

Stiles grinned, biting her knuckles to try and keep her chuckles in, “It’s just hilarious, watching you guys.” Derek rolled his eyes before turning back to the other three, leveling them all with a glare. 

Erica ignored Derek, looking at Stiles directly, “What are you doing here?”

Stiles looked at Derek, waiting for his cue to continue, lest he wish to handle the situation. At a nod of his head, Stiles answered, “Got into a fight with Dad, Derek’s letting me stay with him.”

“What about Scott?” Isaac asked.

“He didn’t answer his phone, Derek did.” Stiles shrugged

Erica stopped short, turning to look at Derek, “You gave him your number, but not me?”

“I knew he wouldn’t prank call me. I wasn’t too certain about you,” Derek replied.

“That’s a load of bull, it’s Stiles,” Isaac commented but didn’t argue further. 

Derek looked at Erica, “And you have my number now, so what’s the difference?”

She huffed, sitting on the couch next to Stiles, grabbing the laptop out of her lap and unpausing the movie, “It’s the point of the matter.” 

Stiles looked at Derek, but when he made no move to comment further, she shrugged, turning in her seat to watch the screen. “What’re you guys doing here?” Stiles asked, eyes focused on the movie.

“We were supposed to train today, but when a certain someone didn’t show up to the train depot, we decided to investigate.” Isaac was the one who answered, raising an eyebrow at Derek. “What were you busy doing, anyway?”

Before Derek could respond, Stiles gave a weak laugh, her skin flushing immediately. “That’s probably my fault.” At Erica’s expectant look, she continued, “He had never seen 21 Jump Street, which is pretty much illegal.” She paused, “I would know, my dad’s the Sheriff.” Erica laughed while Boyd still looked suspicious.

“We were supposed to meet three hours ago.”

“It took a lot of persuading to get him to agree,” Stiles shrugged.

“Oh?” Isaac asked, looking at his Alpha, “And what did that require?”

Derek glared at Isaac, replying before Stiles could, “Stiles made me muffins.”

“And where are these muffins, exactly?” Isaac was persistent in his questioning.

“We ate them.”

“And that’s all?” 

“What are you trying to imply, Isaac?” Derek asked, his tone firm.

“Nothing, nothing,” Isaac walked away, sitting down on the other side of Stiles. “I’m not saying anything.” 

Stiles fought the urge to move away from Isaac, his body almost flush against her own, but Erica was already leaning into her from where she sat on her opposite side. It wasn’t that Stiles was uncomfortable in groups of people, far from it, but this much close contact after the week she had, had, was throwing her for a loop. She wasn’t used to it. It had been a while since the last time she and her father hugged, Derek wasn’t exactly touch-y feel-y, and while Scott had always been prone to half-hugs and affectionate behavior, being around Scott and touching to some degree came as easily as breathing.

Derek seemed to sense her distress, thankfully, and cleared his throat. “I thought you said you wanted to train.”

Erica looked up at Derek, frowning, “That was before I saw Channing Tatum shirtless. Priorities, Derek, get some.”

“Remember who you’re talking to,” Derek warned.

Erica grinned, eyes not leaving the computer screen as she replied, “Oh Alpha, my Alpha—”

“Finish that line, and you’re running suicides for an hour.” Derek warned.

“Our fearful trip is done!” Erica exclaimed, grinning. Before Derek could say anything, she hopped off of the couch.

“It’s like you want me to break your wrist.” Derek frowned.

“But I trust you not to,” Erica winked, linking hands with Boyd. “Are we going to get going, now, or what?” She walked out of the loft, pulling Boyd alongside her. 

Derek looked at Isaac, eyebrows having raised. Without comment, he stood and followed the other two out. Once Derek heard the three leave the building, he looked at Stiles, “Sorry about that, I forgot we had training.”

“It’s totally okay, I know you have a life and other priorities and responsibilities.” Stiles shrugged, pausing the movie. “Go do your thing, Alpha.”

Derek grinned, “I’ll be back later, maybe we can order in food or something.” 

“I would like that,” Stiles nodded, responding just as Derek left the apartment and closed the door behind him. 

::

“Oh my god, my legs are going to fall off.” Erica’s bemoaning voice was the first thing that Stiles heard, jumping at the sudden bang of the loft door as it was forced open.

Derek walked past the three, sitting next to Stiles on the couch. “I tried to ditch them, but they insisted on coming back.” He was frowning.

Stiles shrugged, finding herself smiling at how sincere Derek sounded, “It’s okay. They’re your pack.”

“And so are you,” Derek reminded, watching Stiles expectantly until she gave a nod to show she understood. He smiled before looking over at his betas. “Stretch, Erica! Quit your moaning before you get a leg cramp.”

“Yeah,” Isaac taunted, walking past Erica to go get a bottle of water from the fridge. He tossed one in Boyd’s general direction before grabbing a second for himself. 

“What are we ordering?” Boyd asking, pulling out one of the stools at the table Derek had by the large front window. Isaac sat down next to him a moment later while Erica sat out on the floor, kneading her muscles and groaning in delight. 

“In a minute,” Derek stood, pulling out a couple of menus. “What do you want?” He asked Stiles, holding out the different options for her to choose from. 

“I’m feeling Chinese,” Stiles replied, looking at Derek expectantly, “What about you?”

“Sounds great.” Derek grabbed a pad of paper from the table behind Boyd’s back, clicking a pen. “What do you want?”

“Pork fried rice,” Boyd replied, pulling out his phone and typing a message. 

“Wonton soup,” Isaac added.

Derek looked at Erica, “And?”

“Chicken lo mein and a couple of those egg rolls they’ve got that are out of this world.” She pulled her legs to sit cross-legged, smiling up at Derek. He nodded, looking at Stiles.

“Crab ragoon and a small thing of rice,” Stiles replied.

“Perfect.” Derek looked over what he had written down before standing up, walking into the other room to make the call.

Erica looked over at Stiles, a curious look adorning her features, “So what brings you to our humble abode?”

“I already answered that earlier, didn’t I?” Stiles asked.

“I want the real reason.” She grinned.

“You already got it, sorry to disappoint you.” Stiles frowned. 

“Lame.” She turned to look at Isaac, not lingering on the topic. “Those were some insane jumps you were doing earlier.” Boyd pocketed his phone and joined in on their conversation, the three discussing what they had just gotten done, teasing and complimenting one another.

Stiles looked between the trio and Derek, tapping her fingers against her knees restlessly when she felt her phone buzz. Thinking nothing of it, she pulled her phone out only to notice it was her father calling. After taking a steadying breath, Stiles stood up, walking farther into the loft to answer the call. It had been a couple of days since the two had last spoken beyond one-word text messages and she was honestly surprised he had gone this long without trying to call, demanding answers. Honestly surprised that he hadn’t tracked down where Derek lived and barged in, in the middle of the night. 

“Hey Dad,” Stiles answered, turning her back to the rest of the group, leaning against the wall. “What’s up?”

“Stiles,” The Sheriff paused, taking a breath, “you need to come home.”

“Dad—”

“I’m serious, it’s not right for you to be imposing on Derek like you are. You need to come home and we need to talk about this.” When Stiles didn’t interrupt, he continued, “You can’t keep running away from your problems.”

Stiles had to bite back a laugh, “Running? I’m running from my problems?” She rolled her eyes, “You’re the one who refuses to face facts and accepts things for what they are. So I’m friends with Derek Hale, what’s the big deal?”

“Stiles!” Her father exclaimed, “It is a big deal; he was a person of interest in a murder and you hid your friendship from me for months. What am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles replied, the fight in her voice diminishing just as quickly as it had appeared, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I want my kid home.”

Stiles jumped as she felt a hand touch her shoulder, turning to lock eyes with Derek. He looked at her in concern, only backing off when she gave a somber smile, shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to believe that.” Her voice was small as she spoke.

“I’m your father, you have to trust what I say and the decisions I make.” The Sheriff insisted.

“Yeah? And what am I?” Stiles looked behind her, noting the trio of betas were watching her, their conversation having stopped. Stiles locked eyes with Derek as she waited for her father to reply.

“My kid. You are my kid, Stiles,” She let out an exhale of a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding, eyes beginning to water on their own. At this point, she didn’t know if it was for a good or a bad thing. Yes, he hadn’t called her son, but he also hadn’t called her his daughter. “Stiles?”

“I’ve got to go, Dad. I’ll call you later or something.” Without another word she hung up, sucking in a much-needed breath of fresh air. Stiles pocketed her phone before looking at Derek, “I don’t know if that went good or bad,” she let out a wet laugh.

“I’m going to say good,” Derek brought his hand up to rest on Stiles’ shoulders. Almost like a half hug, but like he had aborted the gesture half-way there and couldn’t stop himself from at least squeezing her shoulder, comforting her. There was a knock at the door, presumably the delivery guy with their food, but before he moved away Derek tightened his grip at her shoulder once more before leveling Stiles with a look. “You good?”

Stiles nodded, “Yeah, I’m good.”

As Derek walked away, Stiles took another deep, calming breath before turning around, locking eyes with Erica right away. She shrugged at the questioning, worried, look that was sent her way, “Dads,”

“Can’t live with them,” Erica finished for her with a grin.

“Can live without them,” Isaac jumped in, a teasing grin on his face. 

Boyd glared at Isaac, “You can only make those comments on Morbid Joke Monday, remember?” 

“Semantics,” Isaac shrugged his shoulders, “Now where’s my soup at?”

“Over here, you ungrateful child,” Derek called, placing the bags down and unwrapping them all. He handed each one of the teens their respective meal before grabbing his own. Derek nodded at Stiles, grabbing two stools for themselves while Erica sat on the table, throwing her pair of chopsticks on the floor in favor of a fork to finish her meal. “You’re disgusting,” Derek commented.

“But you love me anyway.” She chewed with a grin on her face. 

Derek turned to look at Stiles, rolling his eyes in response. Stiles, in tern, had to stop herself from choking on her food, laughing at the look he gave. If she was being truthful, she was going to miss this. Whatever her friendship with Derek was, she liked it, and she was going to miss it. Logically, she knew that just because she went home, didn’t mean she was leaving Derek for good, that they would still run into each other in town and whenever something supernatural sprang up but it wouldn’t be anywhere near as constant as they were now, and that frustrated her.

Derek seemed to pick up on her dismayed mood, nudging her shoulder with his own, “What’s up?” He asked, fork poise at his mouth before taking a bite.

“Just thinking.” When Derek said nothing, Stiles elaborated, “Just about going home and what’s gonna happen once I get there. What’s gonna happen with us.” She felt her face heat up at her comment, growing even redder by the second at the catcalls Isaac and Erica sent their way. “Not like that!” She was quick to add, frowning. 

Just as Stiles was about to slam her head down on the table, Derek smiled, “I understand what you mean. It was nice, not living by myself, even if it was for less than a week.” 

“Gross, you guys, take the soap opera love fest to the bedroom,” Erica teased.

“Or don’t. Definitely don’t.” Isaac was quick to interject. Derek glared at the two while Stiles shook her head.

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Derek looked at Boyd. “This is why you got a key, and they didn’t.”

Boyd grinned, beaming at the praise Derek gave him. 

::

“I’m sorry they came back to the apartment and joined in on our dinner,” Derek said as he walked Stiles out of the loft.

“It was fun, don’t be sorry. They’re a riot, really.” Stiles said truthfully. “I haven’t had fun like that in a while.”

“If by fun you mean listening to stupid comments and snide remarks everywhere then I guess I can see how it was a good time.” Derek raised an eyebrow in question while Stiles rolled her eyes in response. “Seriously, if anything comes up, you can come back here at anytime. Whether I’m here or not.” 

Stiles smiled, unlocking the Jeep to throw her bags in the back. “Yeah? And how am I supposed to do that if you’re not here?”

“With this,” Derek put a key to his place in Stiles’ hand, grinning at the shocked look he earned. He shrugged nonchalantly, “I made it a couple of days ago, figured it would come in handy.”

“Dude,” Stiles looked down at the key before looking up at Derek in alarm, “Are you sure? Like, I know you weren’t planning on giving Erica or Isaac one, and—”

“I have each of their copies in the Camaro’s glove box. They’ve been sitting there for weeks, but they decided to bribe Boyd into copying his rather than asking me directly.” Derek shrugged, “Never said they weren’t creative.”

“Or manipulative,” Stiles corrected.

“Same difference.” Derek grinned.

“Clearly you’ve been the one training them,” Stiles rolled her eyes. She checked the time on her phone, sighing forlornly, “I guess I should get going. Don’t want Dad calling the cops on me.”

Derek’s grin grew, “But that’s so much fun.”

“You’re an asshole.” Stiles climbed into the Jeep, looking at Derek through the open window. 

“I don’t see you complaining.” Derek taunted, smirking as Stiles drove away, letting him have the final word because, honestly, what could she respond to that? After the days and nights she had spent with him, Stiles would be lying if she said her feelings towards him were not all over the place. Before, she had thought of him as a nuisance, an inept leader at best. Then she got to know him, though, and Stiles’ opinion changed. He was nice; he was nice, and, shit, was he sarcastic. 

There wasn’t much else Stiles looked for in a man, to be perfectly honest, and when that thought hit her she had to slam on her brakes, traffic laws be damned.

She liked Derek Hale. 

She, Stiles Stilinski, liked, liked, Derek Hale, resident Alpha of Beacon Hills.

Shit.

::

Stiles walked into the house and almost immediately regretted doing so. Sitting at the table next to her father was Melissa McCall.

“Stiles, we need to talk.” The Sheriff said, looking at Stiles when she walked into the room.

“No,” Stiles said, picking up her bags from where she had dropped them by the front door. “I’m not doing this.”

“Stiles, wait—” The Sheriff called after her.

“No!” She turned around, voice angry. “No, you do not get to do this.” She looked at Melissa before looking at her father. “What did you tell her? What does she know? Did you tell her everything? You said you wanted to talk, this isn’t talking!”

“It can be if you would just shut up and listen,” The Sheriff yelled back, his own voice rising to match that of Stiles’. He paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, “Stiles, I want to help you. I really, really do.”

“Help me to what? Be the son you always wanted?” Stiles scoffed, looking away from him.

“No,” He replied earnestly, “I want to understand you and every time I try to, you shut down and fight me.” 

“That’s not true.” Stiles grumbled, her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Stiles,” The Sheriff’s eyebrows were raised pointedly, “Please, just come sit down. Melissa doesn’t know anything.”

“And I won’t, not until you feel comfortable telling me whatever it is.” Melissa added.

“What do you want to talk about?” Stiles asked, picking at the wooden table with her fingernail, avoiding her father’s eyes.

“Stiles,” his voice was exasperated, “You keep telling me I don’t know anything, that I should know, but I can’t do what’s right if you won’t tell me what that even means.” 

Stiles was silent.

“What can I do, to help you?” The Sheriff prompted once more.

“Accept me. I need you to accept me, for me.” Stiles said.

“I do! God, Stiles, I accept you, I love you, I will never stop doing either of those. You could turn into some sort of mutant were-dog and I would still love you.” The Sheriff spoke, exasperated. 

Stiles choked on her spit, sputtering before catching herself, glancing at Melissa and sharing a panicked look because, what. Dogs meant wolves, right? Right? 

So not the time or place.

Ignoring the two, the Sheriff continued on talking, “I can’t help you unless you tell me what I can do to help. I’m shooting blind, here, Stiles, I have no idea what to do to make things right with you.”

“It’s just,” Stiles tapped her fingers along the table top, “it’s the words you use, sometimes, and I know you don’t realize it, but it hurts. It hurts a lot.” The Sheriff look at her in confusion, “You called me son the other day.”

He didn’t say a word, but the Sheriff’s eyes did widen. He thought he had been careful, had been choosing his words wisely ever since Stiles came out to him. He hadn’t even realized he had slipped up. “Stiles,” he began before pausing to gather his thoughts, “you have to know I hadn’t even realized, I didn’t mean to. I try so hard to say what’s right. I’m sorry.”

Stiles nodded, watching her fingers as they moved across the wood, “It still hurts.”

“I know, I can only imagine, but I know,” The Sheriff insisted, reaching over to grasp Stiles’ hand, “You can’t shut me out, however. If I mess up, I need you to tell me. This is a learning process for the both of us and I need you to understand that I’m not perfect.” Stiles nodded. “But I love you, god, do I love you, kid. You’re all that I’ve got and I’m not about to lose you to some ex-con.”

Stiles rolled her eyes, causing the Sheriff to scoff.

“Oh, come on, Stiles, I’m an elected official for a reason; I know that look when I see it.” Melissa had to cover her mouth to contain her own laugh at the look shared between Stiles and the Sheriff. “You can’t tell me there’s nothing going on between the two of you.”

‘There isn’t, Dad, there really, truly, isn’t.” Stiles insisted, grinning. “We’re friends. Just friends. Nothing more than friends, nothing less than friends. Friends.” 

“And you don’t like him anymore than as a friend?” The Sheriff asked, eyebrow poised in question.

“Nope,” Stiles responded, popping the ‘p’, “Not at all.” 

The Sheriff frowned but accepted her answer for the time being. He tapped his finger against her knuckles from where their hands were still clasped

“I’m serious, Stiles. You do need to talk to me.”

“I know,” Stiles commented. “It’s hard to.”

“Why? Why is it hard to?” He questioned.

“I don’t know! That’s the thing,” Stiles grumbled, “you say you want to help and want to understand but nothing you do says otherwise. What’s Melissa here, for, anyway? You want to get me help? You want to shrug your problem off on somebody else? Because I’m not just a problem. I’m a person.”

“Stiles! I never once said that.” The Sheriff interjected, “I want to help you because I love you. If I can’t provide you with what you need, I need to find someone who can. We can’t do this by ourselves.” 

“You mean that?” Stiles asked, her voice suddenly small and unsure.

“I do. No matter who or what you are, you are my child, first and foremost, and nothing’s about to change that.” The Sheriff paused, waiting for Stiles to look up to lock eyes with her, “Nothing.” 

The three sat in silence for a moment before Melissa coughed, catching both the Sheriff and Stiles’ attention. It took a moment but the Sheriff’s eyes widened, exclaiming, “Oh! Right.” He turned to look at Stiles, “I know I said we weren’t going to look into options until after you graduated high school, but I thought now might be a good time to look into therapy—”

“Therapy?” Stiles stood up, “Are you serious? After all that you just said? You want to send me to therapy? You just said I wasn’t a problem that needed fixing!” She moved to leave the room.

“Stiles!” The Sheriff raised his voice, “If you want to transition, you need to talk to somebody!” That made Stiles freeze in her steps, turning around cautiously to look at her father. There was hope, clear as day, on her face, but she refused to acknowledge it. It was too good to be true. “We need to find you a therapist who you actually like and are willing to talk to, somebody experienced in this and we need to talk to a doctor to start you on hormone therapy.” 

“So you did do research.” Stiles commented softly, returning to her seat. She looked over at Melissa, scratching the back of her head nervously. “So, uh, I’m trans. A trans woman. But clearly still a guy. But I’m a woman, not a guy.”

Melissa smiled reassuringly, “I understand.”

With a nod, Stiles looked over at her father, “What does this mean for me, then?” 

“It means I found a couple of doctors in the area we could call and check out and discuss where to go from there. It’s not going to be easy—”

“I know, definitely, obviously it’s gonna be one of the hardest thing ever,” Stiles cut off her father, suddenly filled with enthusiasm, practically bursting with energy. She had been so sure her return to home was going to be horrible, disappointing, bitter, and filled with arguments. And it had been, at first. Now, though? Now she was practically busting at the seams because holy hell, things were finally beginning to look up and damn did it feel good. “You’re serious?” She asked her father, “Please be serious I won’t be able to handle it if you’re lying.”

“A hundred percent,” The Sheriff replied, smiling. For the first time in what was probably years, the house felt peaceful. There was no underlying tension and as Melissa, the Sheriff, and Stiles discussed what they could do in the mean time and what they could do to help Stiles’ transition begin as smoothly as possible, things felt easy. They felt carefree. It was like a heavy weight that had been weighing them down was finally lifted and nothing could break their spirits.

::

It had been a month since Stiles’ return home and things were progressing. Quickly, to some, but not fast enough to Stiles. Nobody knew about her trans identity outside of the Sheriff, Melissa and Derek, but they had reached out to a couple of doctors and after finding one that fit, Stiles was seeing Dr. Schwartz bi-weekly. She had gone to her first appointment to inquire about hormones over the weekend and she could honestly barely keep her excitement to herself. It was a wonder nobody had questioned her about it sooner, but when Scott finally asked her what had her so damn happy, she could barely speak through her grin. He didn’t question it further, had merely smiled in response and wished her well because obviously it was good if it had her speechless.

::

“You know, if you’re dating Derek you can totally tell me, right?” Erica asked as she sat down next to Scott, looking at Stiles pointedly over the cafeteria table. 

“Wait, what?” Scott asked, staring at Stiles wide eyed. 

“Erica, we’re not dating, what the hell?” Stiles questioned.

“You sure? Because you look like a fox with a secret.” Erica commented.

“What are you trying to hint at, Erica?” Stiles asked. 

“Just that you seem extra happy as of late, and it only started after you spent a week with my dear, ole’ Alpha. Speaking of which, you two seriously need to start banging because he’s got all this tension and it just keeps building—”

“What she means to say is that he’s been pretty insufferable and my bet is on sexual frustration.” Isaac cut Erica off, sitting on Scott’s other side. He pounded fists with Scott in greeting. 

“For the record, I’m betting he’s constipated.” Boyd added as he joined them at the table, sitting next to Stiles. 

“No, but seriously, you two need to hook up before something breaks.” Erica remarked.

Scott looked at Stiles, “Dude, you’ve been holding back on me, what the hell?”

“It’s nothing, man, because there’s nothing between me and Derek. I’ve barely seen him since I left the loft.” Stiles remarked bitterly. 

“But you wish you had seen him,” Isaac commented, smartly. Erica nodded alongside him in agreement. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want, okay?” Stile spoke off handedly, trying to downplay what they were saying. It wasn’t a big deal. Things were working out and no way was she about to let her crazy, insane, ginormous, astoundingly huge crush on Derek get in the way. 

“He gave you a key.” Boyd remarked, making Isaac and Erica to turn and stare at Stile, speechless.

Scott was the only one who wasn’t frozen silent, “Stiles! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It didn’t seem like something I would just go yelling from the mountain? I don’t know!” Stiles exclaimed, frowning. “He gave me a key, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Bullshit.” Erica remarked, her eyes narrowing, “Isaac and I had to make our owns, you know that.”

“Actually,” Stiles grinned, “Derek made a copy for each of you, you just went and got Boyd to make copies for you before he had a chance to give them to you.”

“What the hell?” Isaac exclaimed, frowning. “Well now I feel like an ass,” he commented.

“Don’t, he thought it was funny or whatever.” Stiles shrugged.

“And you two aren’t fucking, you’re sure about that?” Erica asked with a frown.

“No! Why is it such a big deal to you guys?” Stiles questioned. 

“He’s our Alpha.” Boyd said, as if that was the only answer that mattered. And really, maybe it was. Both Isaac and Erica nodded in unison, agreeing. 

Stiles looked at Scott, “You gotta help me out.”

Scott raised his hands, “Don’t ask me, I have no idea what half of you guys are even talking about.” He frowned, “Do you seriously have a key to the loft?”

“Yes? Does it matter?” 

“It is kind of a big deal, considering he’s an Alpha and that’s considered his den.” Scott replied. “Seriously upset you didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t know it was something worth telling!” Stiles exclaimed. “Nobody tells me these things.”

“It’s instinct for us to catch on to it,” Erica remarked with a shrug. 

“Oh, right, something us lowly humans wouldn’t know anything about.” Stiles rolled her eyes sarcastically.

“Exactly!” Isaac replied, grin wide and borderline obnoxious. 

“How the hell does Derek put up with you guys?” Stiles asked seriously. 

“He throws us into walls for fun,” Boyd remarked with a shrug. Stiles merely gaped at him, astounded. And this was the man she was heavily crushing on?

Suddenly Scott’s infatuation with Allison made a lot more sense. 

::

Stiles was pulling at her hair in the bathroom mirror, smiling at her reflection for the first time in years because hell yes, her hair was growing out. Her hair had been one of the things Derek had asked her about, actually. How, if she was a woman, why didn’t she have her hair grown out? Stiles had shrugged but she understood what he meant. The way she had always seen it was if she couldn’t have long hair the way she wanted and hoped to someday have, having an inch of hair or no hair didn’t make a difference. So she went the lazy route. Why style hair she could care less about?

Now, though? Now she could grow her out without care because things were happening. Things were changing. And damn was she ready for it.

Stiles was admiring her hair, the short strands barely there, leaning into the mirror and smiling when a sudden crash from her room made her jump, nearly knocking into the glass. “Fuck!” She hissed, walking out of the bathroom to stare into her room from the open doorway. 

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked, hands resting on her hips.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Derek asked, standing up with a grimace on his face.

“Failing to imitate a skilled assassin,” She stopped, “Or Peter.”

“Really?” He stood up, sarcasm evident in his voice. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“I just woke up, work with me here.” Stiles rolled her eyes. “No, but seriously, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to say hi.”

“I have a front door for that.”

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard from you, and you’ve had some shining moments.”

Derek paused, “Do you have any respect for me?”

Stiles took a seat on her bed, leaning against the headboard, “Loads, but that’s not exactly relevant right now, is it?”

“I would say it is.” Derek sat in her desk chair, turned to face her as he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs.

“Quit ignoring my question, why are you here?”

“I already answered you.” 

“Fine, why do you want to surprise me.” Stiles used air-quotes to emphasize her point. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Derek shrugged, the tops of his ears starting to flush pink.

“You have my number, if you recall.” Stiles pointed out.

“I wanted to see you, okay?” Derek answered, exasperated. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you,” Stiles grinned. “Seriously, though. Missed you too, man.”

“I never realized how quiet the loft was, you know.” Derek noted.

“Where’s Isaac living?” Stiles asked.

“I’m not sure, actually, why?” Derek asked, finding her question to be out of the blue. They were talking about each other, weren’t they? Where did Isaac come in?

“You have the space, so I don’t see why you couldn’t ask him to live with you.” Stiles said, “It’s just a suggestion, I don’t know how that kind of thing affects your wolf-hierarchy but,” Stiles shrugged, the action finishing her sentence for her.

“I’ll ask him about it.” Derek leaned back in the chair, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Stiles smiled. A moment passed before she spoke up again, “I missed you too, you know.” Derek grinned at that.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Don’t let it get to your head, though. I’m sure if I stayed another week we would have killed each other,” Stiles was quick to say, her own skin flushing. She hadn’t meant to come off too sentimental, because, again, giant horrifically blinding crush for one Derek Hale, but she did mean what she said. And so did he. Right? So what did that say about him?

Stiles refused to think about that. A second of thought could give her a year’s worth of hope and that was something she did not have the time with. It was much better and a lot easier to just sit there and mope about her single life than to frustrate herself with a series of but what did he mean by that and but wait, that could have been interpreted as and other similar phrases. 

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” Derek asked, concerned. 

“I don’t know,” Stiles readjusted the way she was sitting, fidgeting. “Why, do you?”

“I don’t.” Derek answered truthfully. 

“Oh,” Stiles’ voice was quiet as she thought that over. She really, really wanted to think there was something there because, hello, how Derek was talking? What he was saying? Every rom-com she had ever seen told her how this was supposed to end. Then reality came crashing down, however, and she couldn’t avoid that. She couldn’t. There couldn’t be anything there, he was an Alpha, she was whatever she was. Stuff like that didn’t happen in real life. 

“Why are you being quiet?” Derek frowned, “Should I just go?”

“No, no,” Stiles was quick to answer, sitting up from where she sat. “Don’t go.”

Derek sat back, watching her carefully. “You sure?”

“A hundred percent.” Stiles nodded, reassuring both herself and Derek. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Nothing,” Derek spoke honestly. “Like I said, loft is quiet.”

“What about your satan spawn?”

“You mean my betas? Your classmates and friends?” Derek clarified.

“Same difference. Don’t they come over or anything?”

“Not often. That time you were there was pretty unexpected and unintentional.” 

“You should do things more often, then. You know, as a pack.” Stiles suggested.

“Would you come, too?” Derek raised an eyebrow in question.

“I don’t know.” She paused to think, “I’m pack, right?”

“Yes.” Derek grinned.

“I guess so, then,” Stiles grinned in response. “But if there is bodily harm involved, I’m out of there.”

“We’ll just have to be careful. Maybe set something up for just the two of us, instead.”

“Yeah?” Stiles gulped, eyes widening. Was this seriously happening? Legitimately? She wanted to pinch herself but Derek would definitely question her on that and that was not a conversation she was prepared to have. Not when he was suggesting some one on one time. Which, okay, could be totally on a friendship level, but a girl could hope. Or, rather, not hope. No, hope was bad. Hope was what led to heartbreak and she did not have time for that kind of thing right now. No way, no sir-ee. 

“Stiles?”

“What?” Stiles jumped, voice loud and a good octave higher than usual. Her face heated up as she scratched at the back of her head, laughing nervously, “I mean, yeah?” 

“You okay?”

“Why do you ask?”

“You’re acting weird.” Derek watched her carefully.

“Oh?” Again, she gave a nervous chuckle. Her skin was positively on fire now. 

Derek stood up, walking towards the bed. Stiles gulped, pulling her legs up to her chest, letting Derek sit in front of her. He leaned over and pressed his hand to her face, cupping her jaw. “You’re really warm, and red,” he noted. 

“Yeah?” Stiles stuttered, watching Derek with wide eyes. 

“Yes.” He answered, glancing down at Stiles’ lips before meeting her eyes. He held her gaze, and unbeknownst to him, Stiles was screaming on the inside. 

Derek looked at her lips, he totally did. He did, he, Derek Hale, looked down at Stiles’ lips and she knew she wasn’t gushing blood or had anything stuck in her teeth so he literally looked at her lips for no reason besides pure want, and oh, hell, was she freaking out. She knew what would happen next, she read the books, watched the movies, saw the plays. She wasn’t dumb. And as she glanced down at his lips before meeting his gaze once more, she smiled weekly at Derek, pressing her jaw farther into his hand. “Oh,” she repeated her earlier statement.

Derek smiled back, leaning just the tiniest bit forward. The minuet amount of movement was more than enough for him to press his lips against hers, though the kiss didn’t last long. Derek pulled back and studied Stiles’ expression carefully, looking from one eye to the other. She merely smiled wider in return, pressing forward to capture his lips in another kiss.

Oh, this was happening.

::

“So, this is happening, right?” Stiles asked after Derek pulled away one last time, moving to grab his jacket. It was getting late and the Sheriff was going to be home within the hour. 

“Yes,” Derek turned back around and leaned down, pressing one last final kiss to Stiles’ lips. Really, it was the last one. They had been saying their goodbyes for at least five minutes now, but they were serious. One last kiss and then—okay, one more. But that was it. Really.

“I’ll see you around?” Stiles asking, wincing at how desperate her voice sounded.

Derek grinned, one leg out of the window, the other still in the room, “Definitely.”

When she heard his feet hit the ground outside, Stiles’ couldn’t stop herself from squealing. She pulled her hands to cover her mouth when she heard his laugh but decided, fuck it, this was happening. It literally, honestly, truly, was happening, and shit did it feel good. Stiles couldn’t stop running her fingers over her lips.

::

“so I did the thing”

“the thing?”

“the THING”

“the thing, the thing?”

“THE THING” 

“HOLY SHIT”

“I KNOW”

“HOLY SHIT”

“I KNOW”

“SHIT”

“I KNOWWWWWW” Stiles held her phone tightly in her hands. Of course she texted Scott, he was her best friend. As soon as she was done screaming, both internally and externally, she grabbed her phone and sent him a message. 

“HOLY SHIT”

“we get the point omg but dude srsly it happened the THING happened”

“wait you guys were safe right”

“uh” Stiles sent the first message before typing out a second, “I think we’re thinking of two different things”

“????”

“what do you think I mean by the thing”

“sex. duh”

“oh yea no we made out nd shit was it good”

“awwwwww”

“SHUT UP”

“NO ITS CUTE DAMNIT”

“YOURE CUTE”

“THNK YOU I KNO”

“I CANT WITH YOU”

“THNKS”

“NOT A COMPLIMENT”

“TELL IT TO SOMEONE WHO CARES” Before Stiles could answer, a second message from Scott came through, “no i do care tell me i wanna know more cept not rly because no details pls and thnx but yea tell me bro”

Stiles grinned, typing fast, “it was literally perfect dude I cant even describe it idk hes just really really great????”

“did he do a thing with his tongue?”

“YES” Stiles bit her tongue, stopping herself from screaming again. 

“get itttttttttt”

“I think I died”

“pls dont ill miss you nd then derek will blame me and ill die too”

“but we’ll be dead together ????”

“but dead ppl dont get kisses”

“fuck”

“my point”

“why are you so smart?”

“maybe its maybelline??? idk man” Stiles laughed at Scott’s reply.

“ugh dads home gotta go act normal ill see you tomorrow????”

“most def try not to vomit feelings all over me tho I just did my laundry”

Stiles didn’t respond, instead pocketing her phone because she hadn’t been lying, she had heard her dad’s cruiser pull into the driveway. After running into the bathroom to check how she looked—she looked pretty much normal, save for the beaming grin on her face—Stiles flew down the steps, stopping short from crashing into the Sheriff. 

“Hey!” 

The Sheriff watched Stiles carefully, slowly taking off his jacket, “Hi,” he raised his eyebrows in question, “everything okay?”

“Perfect!” Stiles’ voice was filled with enthusiasm. 

“Sure,” the Sheriff commented, his tone of voice clear that he wasn’t believing a word that she was saying. “Do anything fun?”

“No!” Stiles answered quickly, wincing at how shrill her voice sounded, even to her own ears.

“Definitely don’t believe you, now.” Still, the Sheriff didn’t press, moving into the kitchen and opening up the fridge to only stare for a moment before closing it again. “Pizza?”

Stiles didn’t even bother fighting, “Get pineapple and I won’t complain.” 

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, pulling out his phone and dialing the memorized number.

::

“You sneak!” 

It was almost habit, now, for Erica to come over to where Scott and Stiles sat at lunch and interrupt them with some sort of exclamation. Whether it was embarrassing, a lie, the horrid truth, or down right disturbing, she had a knack at it and joined them at least three times a week. 

Scott blamed Stiles, for the record.

“Swiper no swiping?” Stiles asked carefully, holding her sandwich up to take a bite. 

“Don’t give me that,” she argued.

“We know what you did.” Isaac commented, doing his usual fist bump with Scott before sitting next to Stiles. “We could totally smell it.”

“Dude,” Scott exclaimed, “you told me you didn’t do it!”

“We didn’t,” Stiles frowned, looking from Erica to Isaac and then back again, “I don’t know what makes you think we did.”

“He didn’t throw us into any walls last night, what did you think we would think?” Boyd asked, sitting next to Erica. 

“That he was learning how to be a better Alpha and that violence wasn’t the best form of reinforcement to use on a bunch of teens?” Stiles offered as an answer. “I don’t know!”

“Oh, you know, alright,” Erica’s voice had an edge to it as she looked at Stiles with a near-feral grin, a glint in her eye.

“Except I totally don’t.” Stiles shrugged, taking a sip from her water bottle. 

“Whatever, point is, I don’t have any bruises, I’m happy.” Isaac commented, stealing a fry from Scott’s tray. Scott frowned, batting away Isaac’s hands before eating one himself.

“You guys don’t even bruise!” Stiles exclaimed, “What the hell?”

Boyd shrugged, “You know what he meant.”

“I hate you guys,” Stiles grumbled.

“No you don’t,” Erica winked, “You secretly love us.”

For once, Stiles didn’t have an answer.

::

Another month went by and all Stiles and Derek had done was make out, but Stiles was more than okay with that. When she took the time to think about what might come next, she got nervous. Blowing Derek? Sign her up. Him going down on her? Not exactly feasible for the time being. Or, not in the way she would want him to.

So she didn’t think about it. Out of sight, out of mind. She never looked at herself when she passed by mirrors, especially not when she was getting out of the shower. Now that she was growing her hair out, Stiles was getting better at it, but for the most part? She avoided her reflection. She paid as little amount of attention to her dick as possible because it wasn’t a part of her. It was just there. But sometimes she and Derek would start to get pretty hot and heavy and she would be suddenly reminded that she had a dick and nothing could kill the mood faster than her getting a hard on. Literally, nothing. The Sheriff had walked in on them and Derek had to physically remove himself from her because Stiles did not care. 

But this? This she cared about. This was something she wanted as little to do with as possible. 

Derek was understanding; so very understanding and Stiles was thankful for that. She was glad she got close with Derek, and he with her, because if she had been with anybody else she didn’t think they would have handled things as well as he was. Nevertheless, Stiles could tell he was getting frustrated. She wasn’t stupid; she wasn’t the only one having a problem keeping things cool below the belt and they both knew it. 

::

“I don’t see why you won’t just let me go down on you.” Stiles said one day as they sat on the couch in the loft, her fingers trailing down to tap against his belt. 

“Because,” Derek reached for her hand and threaded their fingers together instead, “you don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” Stiles frowned. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Let’s just keep things like they are.” Derek suggested.

Stiles paused, looking at Derek in surprise, “Do you not want me?”

“What?” Derek asked, staring in confusion. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know, you won’t let me do anything beyond making out! My hands brush over your chest for one second and suddenly it’s like we’re at a middle school dance, a foot between us at all times.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I want us both to be comfortable,” Derek admitted.

“I am comfortable with you—” Stiles stopped short, realization dawning on her, “But you’re not comfortable with me.” She moved to stand up, but Derek was quick to tug on her hand and pull her close to him instead.

“No, that’s not it.” He tightened his grip on her hand, bringing his other hand up to caress her cheek. 

“Then what is it?” She frowned. 

“You know my past; my past relationships, right?” Derek asked.

“Of course,” Stiles answered, pausing a moment before realization dawned on her, “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Derek replied, “I just need things slow, is that okay?”

“That’s more than okay,” Stiles nodded, “In the future, can you tell me these things?”

Derek smiled, “Will do.” Without anything more to say, he leaned in and kissed her, Stiles able to feel his smile before sighing into the kiss. 

For the first time in a long, long time, Stiles was happy.

::

“You’ve been seeing Derek for three months, when am I going to get a family meal with the man?” The Sheriff questioned Stiles one morning as he made his coffee, pouring it into his travel mug.

“Two months,” Stiles corrected, “We’ve been dating for two months.”

“No, it’s been three.”

“Two. It’s two, dad. You sure you’re not losing your memory?” Stiles questioned in between spoonfuls of cereal. 

“It’s been three months since you started seeing Dr. Schwartz, I know I’m right.” 

“Wait, you thought we were together when I went and stayed with him?”

“You mean to tell me you aren’t?”

“What? No! Dad,” Stiles shook her head, standing up to put her empty bowl in the sink. “We got together two months ago, trust me, I would know.”

“But you wanted to be together sooner.”

“Duh,” Stiles rolled her eyes, “Have you seen Derek Hale lately?”

“Actually, yes,” The Sheriff looked over Stiles’ shoulder. As his eyes narrowed, Stiles turned around only to break out into a wide grin.

“Hey!” Stiles walked over, giving Derek a quick peck before threading their fingers together, “What brings you here?”

“Wanted to know if you needed a ride to school.” Derek said. Stiles had taken her Jeep in for its yearly inspection the previous day and it wouldn’t be ready for at least another day or two.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” Stiles grinned.

“Am I the only one wondering how he got in here without either of us knowing?” The Sheriff questioned, although there was no real anger in his voice, “Anyone?”

“Oh,” Stiles blushed, “I may have made him a copy of the house key.”

“What?” Now, the anger was real. 

“To be fair, it was the spare you had hidden outside.” Derek mentioned.

“Still, same difference.” Stiles said.

“Why do you need to have a key, Derek?” The Sheriff questioned, eyes narrowed.

Derek looked to Stiles before looking back at the Sheriff, “Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“Who knows, anything. Stiles loses her set at least once a week.” 

“That she does,” the Sheriff nodded before stopping short. He looked at Stiles, then Derek, and then back to Stiles, “He knows?”

“Kind of hard to miss when he was standing between the two of us when we fought, Dad.” Stiles pointed out.

The Sheriff nodded in turn, looked at Derek and gave him a once over, “You better be treating her right.”

“I am,” Derek answered, “Sir.”

While Stiles rolled her eyes, her farther nodded, “Good.”

“Can I just go to school already?” Stiles asked no one in particular.

“Sure,” Derek stepped away from Stiles to grab her bag, shouldering it as they walked towards the door.

“See ya!” Stiles called back to her dad, closing the door behind her. Once they were in the Camaro and on their way to the high school Stiles turned and shoved Derek’s arm, “Rude.”

“What?” Derek glanced over at Stiles before focusing back on the road. “What are you talking about?”

“Showing up to the house unannounced!” Stiles shook her head, “He could have shot you!”

“Stiles,” Derek’s voice was level, “Werewolf, remember?”

“Blood, Derek, think about the blood. It would have been everywhere and I have a math test I really can’t miss today.”

“I’ll try better next time,” Derek relented.

“Thank you,” Stiles sat back in her seat, a smile adorning her lips, “That’s all I ask.”

“Anything for you,” Derek replied with a cheeky grin as they pulled up to the school. He leaned over and gave Stiles a fond kiss, his hand moving to cup her cheek. Stiles loved it when he did it, and it was almost like a signature move of his and she could literally stay in his arms all day. He didn’t hold her like she was made of glass, rather, like she was something valuable. Something to hold close and keep safe and the feeling it gave her was the best feeling she had ever felt. A sense of security she never knew she yearned for. 

Reluctantly, she pulled away reminding herself she had plans to study with Erica before classes officially started to make sure they were ready for the test. “Pick me up?”

“I’ll be here,” Derek promised, watching as Stiles got out and made her way into the school before driving away. 

::

 

Scott leaned against Stiles’ locker, knocking a fist against his buddy’s shoulder, “Did you do it yet?”

Stiles closed her locker, turning and staring at Scott in confusion, “Do what?”

“You know what,” he winked.

“No, I don’t.” Stiles frowned.

“It. Did you do it, yet?”

“Sex?” Stiles asked loudly before looking around quickly, her voice lowering to a hushed whisper when she noticed the stares they were getting, “Sex? Have we had sex yet?”

“Yeah, have you?” Scott asked. Stiles felt her skin start to heat up.

“No, we haven’t.” She readjusted her bag, fingers tapping along the strap. 

“But you’ve been together for like,” Scott paused, thinking it over in his mind.

“Almost three months.” Stiles filled in.

“Yeah!” Scott nodded, “It’s Derek, and you’re you, you’re seriously telling me you two haven’t bumped uglies yet?”

“Weren’t you and Allison going out for a long, long time before you to boned?” Stiles asked. 

“But that’s me and Allison, this is you and Derek. It’s an odd week if you don’t talk about at least one dirty fantasy involving Derek and it’s a testament of my love for you that I put up with it, I hope you know.”

“Not my fault I’ve got a hot boyfriend.” Stiles grinned. 

Scott rolled his eyes, “Yes, he is very hot, we’ve covered that before. But seriously, nothing? Blowjobs? Mutual jerk sessions?”

“Since when did our relationship become such a hot topic?” Stiles prompted. 

“Call it morbid curiosity.” Scott replied, “I’m watching out for my brother, Stiles. It’s what guys do.”

Stiles winced but nodded anyway. She really needed to talk to Scott. With how things had been going, Stiles and Derek had almost slipped up around Erica a number of times already and she knew it would only be a matter of time before all three of the betas knew. Scott and her would definitely need to talk before the week was over. 

“We haven’t done anything,” Stiles admitted.

“Not even—”

“Nothing, Scott.” The two walked down the hallway before turning into their classroom. Stiles threw her bag on the floor before sliding into her desk.

“I knew he was compensating for something with that car,” Scott said, sitting in the desk across from Stiles. 

“Oh, he’s not.” Stiles grinned, biting her lip. Just because they hadn’t actually touched each other didn’t mean Stiles couldn’t totally make out the outline of Derek’s cock through his jeans. 

“But you just said—”

“Trust me,” Stiles winked, their conversation falling silent as their teacher made their way into the room, starting class. 

::

“What’s up?” Scott asked, walking out of his house and jumped into the Jeep. “Your texted sounded kind of spazzed.”

Stiles tapped her fingers along the steering wheel, beating to a random rhythm. “I just need to talk to you.” 

Scott frowned, concern evident on his face, but he nodded, letting Stiles drive. They drove around town for a while and just when Scott was about to ask what was up, Stiles took a deep breath.

“Promise me you won’t hate me.”

“What?” Scott asked, turning to stare at Stiles in alarm.

“Just promise me, I just need for you to promise me, okay?” Stiles’ grip tightened on the wheel. “And, while I understand if you don’t wanna be friends or whatever, you are my best friend. Like, best ever. Bestest friend. ‘Til mudpies do we part.” 

“I promise.” Scott said, voice low. With each passing second where Stiles didn’t say something, his worry grew. What was going on? What could Stiles have done that would make him want to break up their friendship? Scott couldn’t think of anything even remotely plausible.

“I wanted to tell you.” Stiles shook her head, “No, actually, no, I didn’t. I didn’t want to tell anyone but it’s not like I can exactly not do that.” She paused, “Kind of inevitable, talking to people about this kind of thing.”

“Stiles,” Scott spoke cautiously, reaching over and grabbing one of Stiles’ hands, squeezing it in his grip. “Trust me, I love you, man, and nothing’s gonna change that.”

Stiles let out a wet laugh at that, shaking her head even harder than before. “You don’t get it! And if you do, you’re not gonna wanna be around me. I’ve seen it happen before. I’ve talked to people, online, about what their friends have done and said after they came out, you know? And some of the stories I’ve read are horrible. They’re terrifying.”

“Come out?” Scott asked, “I kind of figured you liked dudes when you started not-sucking Derek’s dick.” 

“Scott.” Stiles pulled over into the parking lot near the local park. She put the Jeep into park but kept her gaze forward. Her nails were pressing into the leather of the steering wheel, almost painfully. “What do you know about transgender?”

A silent moment passed between the two before Scott answered, “Not a whole lot. Actually, nothing. Why? What is it?”

Stiles had to take a steadying, deep breath before continuing, “It’s like—well, it’s actually—really, I don’t—okay.” Stiles stopped, gathering her thoughts. “You know how you were born with male body parts?”

“Yeah,” Scott answered.

“And you know how you know, mentally, that you are a guy? How you look down at yourself and go yep, that’s me, all male all the time?” 

“I guess so, why?” 

“Because I don’t.”

“What do you mean?” Scott questioned.

“I was born with a dick, blah blah blah, all that normal boy shit.” Stiles responded, “Mentally, though? Not a boy.”

“Which makes you,” Scott’s voice trailed off at the end.

“A girl,” Stiles finished for him. She glanced over at Scott before quickly looking away. She didn’t want to see how he was looking at her, didn’t want to risk it. “I’m a girl. And, I mean, I know that’s a lot to take in, I get it, Dad’s still learning but I really, really, needed to tell you and, fuck, if you don’t wanna be friends anymore, I get it. But, if that’s the case, I really need for you to get out now because I don’t know what I’ll do if I know you think I’m nuts or whatever and are sitting there next to me.”

“Stiles—”

“No, just, let me finish? Please? I know you probably hate me, for not telling you anything until now, but it’s been hard. It is hard. I’m finally getting to a place that I want to be, though, and I just really, really want my best friend there with me when it all happens. I’m tired of lying.” Stiles took a moment to breathe, rubbing at her eyes distractedly. She told herself she wasn’t going to cry, damnit. “I’m just so, so tired, Scott.” He didn’t say anything, making Stiles glance over, this time holding her gaze, gulping. “Scott?”

“I’m just taking it all in,” Scott said. He tightened his grip on Stiles’ hand, having not let it go since he first grabbed it, “You’re my best friend, too, you know, and, okay, I’m hurt you didn’t tell me sooner but I’m not gonna walk away just because you don’t dig the dick life.”

Stiles laughed at that, wiping at her eyes with her free hand, sniffling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me for it, though.” Scott smiled cheekily.

“Probably, among other reasons.” She paused, “You’re seriously okay with it?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, “You can’t exactly change who you are, right? I’m confused and have so many questions it’s kind of scaring me, but you’re my best bud. You didn’t leave when I became a creature of the night,” Scott shrugged. “Why would I leave you?”

“I have no idea,” Stiles admitted, “It’s just, some of the things I read. People’s entire families shut them out after they came out. Just thinking about you doing that, it was scary.”

“Does Derek know?”

“What?” Stiles asked, looking at Scott before nodding, “Yeah, he found out.”

“Yeah?”

“I left some stuff up on my computer, but when Dad and I got into a huge fight? He was there and heard all of it.”

“And you had been fighting about—”

“Trans things. Trans issues. How I’m a girl,” Stiles offered different answers, “Basically, everything. But we’re working on it, on communicating better with each other and for the time in a while, things are looking up.” She smiled.

“You have been a lot happier, I just thought it was because of Derek.”

“Scott, we don’t do anything but make out, I can’t exactly get a euphoric high off of that.” Stiles rolled her eyes, laughing, “I get what you mean.”

“Is that why you two haven’t, you know, done it, yet?” Scott asked.

Stiles took a moment to think before replying, “Kind of. It’s a mix of things. We both have issues.”

“Understatement of the century,” Scott agreed. 

The two sat in silence for a while longer before Stiles eventually broke it, pulling her hand out of Scott’s grip to start the ignition. “We cool?”

“Cooler than ice.” Scott grinned. 

::

 

Derek walked into Stiles’ house before stopping short. Stiles and Scott sat strewn about the couch, fingers beating at the buttons of their controllers, eyes straining with how hard they were concentrating on the game in front of them. He observed them carefully before shrugging off his jacket, taking a seat in the adjacent armchair, watching the screen in silence. It wasn’t until Stiles let out an exasperated groan of defeat as her character on-screen died did she pay him any regard.

“Oh, hey, when did you get here?” Stiles asked. 

“Not too long ago,” Derek smiled. He liked Stiles; he really, really, did. She had been sitting upside down on the couch and Derek had no idea how she was able to play laying like that but it was just another thing about Stiles he was starting to love. Little quirks, little things like that, tugged at his heartstrings in the best way possible.

“Hey, if you guys wanna go make out in the other room or something while I beat my high score, I’m totally cool with that.” Scott hadn’t stopped playing, barely passed Derek a glance with how focused he was on the game. 

“That’s so sweet of you,” Stiles rolled her eyes, but fell onto the floor in order to right her body, grabbing hold of Derek’s hand when she stood up and tugging him into the kitchen. “Well, he did give his blessing,” she smiled cheekily.

“You’re ridiculous.” Derek commented.

“I don’t see you complaining.”

“No, you don’t.” Derek tugged Stiles closer, slipping a hand to rest at the small of her back, pulling their bodies closer to one another. 

The two stood there, kissing, but it wasn’t long before Derek pushed Stiles against the counter, picking her up in a quick move, setting her down to sit on the countertop. Stiles groaned happily into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Derek’s neck and resting against his shoulder blades. “Fuck,” she murmured, “Love when you do that.”

“I know,” Derek said.

“Asshole.” Stiles bit at Derek’s lip, grinning when he moaned into her mouth. “Fuck,” she breathed out, “I love when you do that, too.”

Derek stood in between Stiles’ legs, his arms braced on either side of her. He brought them to rest on her hips, his grip tightening, “I know.”

Stiles had to laugh at that, grinning wide as she pulled back. “Shit, how did you get this cute?”

“What do you mean?” Derek asked, leaning in to kiss along Stiles’ jawline. 

“You just,” Stiles replied, pausing at the hitch in her breath when Derek sucked at her pulse point, “you do these things, and they are adorable, really, and they just remind me how much I like you.” 

“Well,” Derek pulled back to look Stiles in the eyes, “good thing I like you, too.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Derek grinned, pulling Stiles back into a kiss. 

The two stayed like that for a good while more until a groan at the doorway pulled them apart, “Really? It’s been half an hour.” 

“You told us to do it!” Stiles said, tightening her hold on Derek. Derek pressed his face against Stiles’ shoulder, his head leaning towards her neck. He sighed, kissing at her throat. 

“Well, yeah, but,” Scott stopped, realizing how flawed his argument was. “Whatever, people eat off of that counter!”

“No, they eat off of the table.” Stiles corrected, leaning into Derek’s touch.

“Derek, seriously?” Scott asked.

“Don’t stop,” Stiles said, looking over at Scott with a grin, “You’re just jealous Allison isn’t here to keep you busy.” Scott frowned. “Did you need something?”

“I died,” Scott said, “Wanted to see if you wanted to start a new round.”

“Oh, yeah, actually,” Stiles tapped at Derek’s shoulder blade, smiling sadly when he pulled back, “As much as I would love to stay here, kissing you, the xbox is calling.”

“It’s fine.” Derek stepped back, letting Stiles jump off of the counter.

“You can hang, though?” Stiles asked, hope in her voice. 

“Definitely.” The two linked hands as they walked back into the living room, ignoring the face Scott gave them as they passed him. Stiles gave him the stank eye in turn.

::

“So, you’re growing your hair out?” Scott asked, his thumb beating down on the A-button like the fist of god. 

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles asked, his fingers moving fast over the keys, trying to do as much as possible in the game.

“Why?”

“Well, you know,” Stiles shrugged. 

“Oh, the girl thing?”

“Yeah.”

“Got it,” Scott paused, “Hey, can I still call you bro? Or is that offensive, now?”

“I would say no, but it’s you, so,” Stiles yelled out in victory as her on screen character shot it’s target successfully, “You’re the exception.”

“Got it.” Scott high-fived Stiles for her kill before going back and focusing on killing his own target.

“Stiles?” Derek asked, watching the two.

“Yeah?”

“He knows?” 

Stiles glanced over at Derek before focusing on the game, “Oh, yes, actually. Told him last weekend.” Stiles grinned, “It went really well.”

“I can see that.” Derek paused, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She shrugged, “Didn’t seem important? Well, okay, no, it was very, very important. It just never came up.” Derek sighed but accepted her answer, sitting back in his seat. 

::

“See you tomorrow?” Scott asked, knocking his fist against Stiles’.

“Definitely.” Stiles grinned, seeing Scott to the door. He had his mom’s car for the night and was going to run over to Allison’s while her parents were out for the night. She had just sent him a text telling him that the coast was clear. “Use protection!”

“We always do!” 

Stiles closed the door with a laugh, jumping in surprise when Derek’s hands wound around her waist from behind. They were the same height, but he was still able to hook his chin over her shoulder, “Thought he was never gonna leave.”

Stiles rolled her eyes, “Jealous, much?”

“Only when it matters.” Derek admitted, nuzzling at her neck.

Stiles reached up and tugged at Derek’s hair before turning around in his arms. “Yeah?”

“Yes.” Derek kissed at the corner of Stiles’ mouth. 

“C’mon,” Stiles tugged at Derek’s hand, pulling him behind her as she ascended the stairs to her room.

“Stiles?” Derek asked.

Stiles sat on her bed, backing up to rest against the pillows. “I want to kiss you.”

“We could have done that downstairs,” Derek said but moved to the bed anyway. He pressed a knee to the mattress.

“Bed’s more comfortable,” Stiles noted, grinning when Derek hovered above her, his arms bracketing her in as he braced himself. 

“You have a point there.” Derek conceded, leaning on his forearms before turning his head down, capturing her in a kiss. 

“Don’t I always?” Stiles asked.

“No,” Derek grinned against her lips before nipping at her bottom lip, smiling even wider at the gasp Stiles emitted. 

::

“Can somebody pass the salt?” Erica’s voice rang out clear across the loft, her annoyance escalating. It was the third time she had asked, and the third time nobody answered. Stiles rolled her eyes before grabbing the shaker, practically hurling it at her head. “Thank you,” she replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Anytime!” Stiles responded cheekily, turning to face Derek with a grin. He merely rolled his eyes in turn.

“Ugh,” Isaac grimaced. Both Derek and Stiles raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“What?” Derek asked.

“You’re both sickening.”

“Seconded.” Boyd commented. Isaac nodded alongside Boyd. 

“I’m sorry?” Stiles asked, taking a bite out of her sandwich. 

“I’m not.” Derek smirked, kissing Stiles’ cheek and stealing one of her fries before picking up his own. 

Erica had shown up to the loft a couple of hours earlier, glaring at the rumpled mess that was Stiles and Derek when Derek let her into the loft. In their defense, the pair did think they had more time before anyone would be over. At Stiles’ insistence, Derek began having weekly meetings for his pack. The meetings eventually became game and movie nights, growing to include Scott. He and Derek butted heads but more often than not it was about which movie they were going to be watching or where to order food from. 

Things were quiet on the home front and Stiles loved it.

Isaac and Boyd showed up not too long thereafter, bags of hoagies with them. Erica had sorted through them while Stiles grabbed plates, Scott walking into the apartment. While the group was dispersed, their conversations flowed from one room to the other. 

“Do you always have to sit on top of the table?” Isaac asked, glaring up at Erica. 

“Would you rather see those two making out up here?” Erica asked, looking pointedly at Derek and Stiles. “Because that’s what I had to watch when I walked in here earlier.”

“You were early!” Stiles spoke in their defense.

“No, I was on time. You were the ones who forgot clocks even existed.” Erica retorted.

“Ugh, seriously, dude?” Scott asked, pulling out a stool to sit on Isaac’s other side. 

Stiles gave a shit-eating grin at his remark but said nothing more. Say what they want, she had a hot boyfriend who she could kiss at anytime she wanted. They rest of them could just deal, because for the first time in a long time things felt easy.

The pack as a whole still had their hiccups and their fights, however. Derek was still figuring things out, how to best teach and coach his betas. Scott would disagree with a method of his training and it would usually lead to an all-out brawl, but worse things had happened. Erica and Stiles usually got together at least once a week to study together and Isaac, Boyd and Scott would have their own werewolf version of a play date. At first Stiles had been jealous, but when she saw them in action, she was more than okay to sit on the sidelines and make out with Derek.

They hadn’t told the Sheriff about werewolves, and Stiles honestly wasn’t planning on it anytime soon. It wasn’t a priority. Her appointments with Dr. Schwartz were interesting, at best, but she was happy. They had talked about starting hormone treatment during the summer so if there were any problems, Stiles wouldn’t have the worry of school on the forefront of her mind. In the mean time, they were working through some of her issues, some of her insecurities and concerns and goals for the future. Where she wanted to be in five, ten years time. And some of these things were things she hadn’t thought about before, not really.

It was hard to when she had been constantly waking up with the reality that she was still considered a boy. That she didn’t look like who she was, that she couldn’t be who she was. 

Now, though, sitting surrounded by friends and people she cared for, Stiles could smile. She wasn’t on an emotional roller coaster anymore, wasn’t snapping out of turn, and, more often than not, she felt good about herself. Stiles had a long way to go, still, until she was who she was meant to be, but she was going in the right direction. 

And, really, that was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks and praise to [charlie_michelle](archiveofourown.org/users/charlie_michelle) because without her constant support and love, this fic would be no where.


End file.
